SHE WASNTS TO LEAVE
You’re unwell. The storm last night hasn’t done you any favors.” His lips curved into a small, warm smile, one that seemed to soften the cold air in
the room. “Why don’t you stay with me for now?”
The offer took her by surprise.
She blinked, startled, her chest tightening at the gentleness in his tone. He was soft-spoken, considerate, almost… loving. ‘lucas … the
man everyone fears, whispered about as ruthless and cunning. And yet…’
She hesitated, her eyes tracing the sharp lines of his jaw, the quiet authority in his posture. ‘He’s not at all like those rumors.’
He was offering kindness, but accepting it felt heavy. ‘I can’t take advantage of his kindness. I have to stand on my own. I can’t be a burden.’
Her gaze dropped to the floorboards. After a steadying breath, she lifted her eyes to meet his and spoke in a quiet, careful voice. “Thank you for your invitation, Mr. Blackwood,” she said softly, “but I can’t accept it. I don’t want to trouble
you.”lucas expression flickered for a heartbeat, a shadow crossing thewarmth of his smile. Unaware of the subtle shift, Genevieve slipped her legs off
his thighs and edged sideways. Her bare feet met the cold floor as she rose, intending to head toward the door.
But Lucas moved faster. In one smooth motion, he stood and turned, striding forward until he blocked her path. His hand found her waist,
stopping her in place. She froze, her breath hitching as her gaze lifted to his face.
“Miss Brooks,” he said quietly, “it’s still snowing outside. Let’s talk about this for a moment.”
The troubled expression on Genevieve's face didn’t fade. Her gaze dropped to the hand at her waist, lingering there, yet the man before her didn’t flinch or pull away. She noticed how large it was on her waist, the warmth radiating
through her thin dress.
His eyes, dark and penetrating, held hers. A small, kind smile flickered across his face. “When I found you,” he continued, “you didn’t seem to have any money on you. No suitcase. Not even slippers on your feet.”genevive frowned slightly. “I had a suitcase,” she said quickly. “You didn’t see it
when you found me?”
“I didn’t,” he replied immediately. “All I found was you lying there unconscious. There was nothing with you.”
Her stomach sank. She glanced down at herself. Her dress was wrinkled, flecked with dirt from last night. Her bag, her ID, her phone, everything
was gone. At that moment, all she had left was the dress on her back.
She hesitated, her lips parting before she finally said, softly, “Thank you, Mr. Blackwood. I’ll accept this favor from you.”
Lucas expression softened completely, the tension easing from his jaw. His smile returned, and he released her waist, slipping his hands casually into his pockets.
For a moment, he studied her carefully, then his brows drew together slightly. “It was snowing heavily last night. And you were barefoot. What
were you doing out there alone? Was someone trying to hurt you?”
Genevieve shook her head. “No. It’s nothing like that,” she answered, her voice small. But she didn’t explain further.
Lucas expression turned slightly displeased at her evasive response, but he didn’t press her. He paused, letting his tone slide into casual
curiosity, though his eyes betrayed him intense, searching, eager for the answer. “I also heard… you divorced Mr. Hale. That you separated from
him. Is that true?”
Genevieve head snapped toward him. Her eyes widened, shock flashing across her face. ‘How does he know about this already?’
“As far as I know,” Lucas continued in a casual tone, though his eyes stayed on her. “Mr. Hale didn’t even attend your parents’ funeral because he wasn’t happy in your marriage.”
At his words, anger flared in genevieves eyes. Her chest tightened, her fingers clenching.
“He didn’t come to my parents’ funeral,” her teeth clenched. “He never treated us like family. He didn’t even give me a proper marriage. So why would he go around saying he wasn’t happy in our marriage when he’s the one who wronged me?!”
Genevieve eyes darkened as he looked at her. Tension rippled through him, his jaw tightening.
‘What right did that man have to hurt my Geni? To
make her this upset… over someone as worthless as him?’
The next moment, he lifted his hand and gently stroked the back of her head. His touch startled her; her body stiffened, and she turned toward him, eyes wide in surprise. But Lucas didn’t stop. His palm moved with slow, careful strokes.
When she looked up at him, his hand slid to cradle her face, his thumb brushing her cheek with surprising tenderness. His deep voice carried a hint of restrained anger as he said, “If I had such a beautiful and adorable wife, I would never dare to make her sad. Not even for a second.”
His tone sharpened, eyes narrowing. “Even the slightest frown on your face would be enough for me to break a man’s legs and cut out his tongue for speaking ill of you.”
Genevieve’s mouth fell open, surprised by his words. Her mind raced his intensity, the sharpness in his tone, the raw danger radiating from him. Her
heart skipped a beat. ‘He really is dangerous…’ A shiver ran down her spine. Then another thought struck her. ‘But he’s not wrong. I was good to
Victor for five years! He should have been kinder to me in return, instead of badmouthing me.’
She straightened instantly, and within moments, the troubled look on her face began to fade. “You’re right!” she said decisively. “It should have been cut off.”
Lucas lips curved into a small smile, one that carried both amusement
and affection. “Miss Brooks, are you scared of me?”
“No, Mr. Blackwood,” she replied promptly. She tilted her head slightly and met his eyes. “I think… you’re a really nice person.”
Lucas’s face lit up immediately. That affectionate smile never left his features as he looked down at her. Seeing her return the smile only made
him more pleased and satisfied.Good,” he said softly, almost in relief. Then, leaning slightly closer, he added, “Then how about breakfast? You’ve been sick since last night; you need to eat something.”
Genevieve hesitated, a wave of embarrassment crossing her face. “I… I’m not hungry,” she murmured. But a soft growl from her stomach betrayed her, twisting sharply with a mix of shame and hunger. With a sheepish glance,
she looked up at him and admitted softly, “All right. I’ll eat.”
Lucas smile widened, a grin this time. “Come with me. I’ve already arranged breakfast.”
Together, they walked out of the room and down the grand staircase, the chill of the morning air from the snow outside brushing past them as they
entered the dining room.
The mansion was huge, every corner sharp and clean. The floors were polished dark wood that shone in the sunlight. Tall windows let the light
spill over velvet chairs in deep red and green. Shelves lined the walls, filled with books and artifacts, each carefully placed. Rugs in blue and burgundy added color, and the warm glow of chandeliers made everything feel alive.
Genevieve’s eyes widened. She had never seen a home like this. Her gaze then fell to the breakfast table, and her breath caught again. Everything was perfect: fresh fruit glistening, warm pastries, steaming cups of coffee, and delicate
china, each item placed with the same meticulous care.
Genevieve lowered herself onto the chair he pulled out for her, her hands tightening into fists in her lap as she swallowed hard. Her heart thudded
painfully against her ribcage, awareness of his presence pressing down on her chest. She opened her mouth to speak, voice small and hesitant. “Mr.Blackwood, thank you for letting me stay last night…”
Her hands curled tighter, breath catching as her gaze flickered across his intense features. “I… I think I should skip breakfast and leave. I don’t want to bother you any further.”
She turned to stand, intending to leave, but Lucas was already there. In a single, fluid movement, he stepped into the hallway, blocking her path.
Startled, she stepped back until her back hit the couch. But instead of stepping aside, Lucas immediately moved closer, placing one hand onthe back of the couch, trapping her between him and the furniture.
He leaned in, his breath brushing her skin as he asked, calm but deadly,
“You want to leave?”