The hallway smells like blood and bad intentions, or maybe something worse. Like trouble you can't wash off. A weak light from a flickering bulb stutters across the walls, throwing shadows that seem to move with every breath.
Lucien is standing in the middle of it, his shirt soaked with Dominico's blood. He has the guy pinned against the wall, fists flying. Every punch lands with a dull, sick crack. Dominico's head snaps back, then forward again, like a ragdoll.
I am standing at the corner with Matteo. I can barely breathe. I have seen Lucien angry before, but this is different. It isn't just rage; it is cold, brutal, and hungry. He didn't flinch when his knuckles split open. He looks like a man who won't stop until there is nothing left.
Dominico slides lower against the wall, leaving a thick smear of red. His face is already a mess, blood dripping onto the faded carpet. My stomach twists. This isn't a fight anymore. This is Lucien taking a man apart.
My heart is pounding. I don't want Dominico's death on my name. Not here. Not like this.
Lucien slams his head into the wall again. The sound is sharp and final. Dominico groans but doesn't fight back—can't.
I force myself to move. My legs feel heavy, but I step forward. I am almost to Lucien when a voice cuts through the hallway.
"No."
I stop and turn around.
The word has come from Matteo.
Matteo.
I have never seen him speak before. Always silent, watchful, or talking by typing on his tablet. Hearing him now is like getting hit with ice water. I don't know why he doesn't talk if his tongue hasn't been cut by Lucien. My eyes are wide, but there is no time to react or stay shocked.
I suppress my surprise and move again. Lucien is still swinging.
"Stop it, Lucien," I yell and grab his arm. "He'll die, and I don't want that."
Lucien has stopped. His chest rises and falls fast. His shirt clings to him, wet with blood. Slowly, he turns his head toward me.
The look in his eyes made my stomach twist. Dark. Dangerous. It feels as if something wild has crawled out of him and isn't ready to go back.
I stop myself from flinching. I step closer and wrap my arms around him, holding on tight. My cheek brushes his chest, and I feel the heavy beat of his heart under my hands.
"Please," I say this in a softer tone now, but my resolve remains just as firm. "Stop it."
The hallway goes quiet except for the sound of Lucien's breathing and Dominico's weak gasps from the floor. I know the man is alive. I have seen death before, back in Lucien's basement. I know the difference.
Lucien's hands twitch at his sides, like the need to keep going is still there. His eyes drop to mine, then slide to Dominico, then back again.
For a moment, I think he may shove me off. But then he steps back. His hands open. His shoulders stay tense, muscles tight like a coiled spring, but he doesn't hit Dominico again.
Dominico coughs; the sound is wet and ugly. Matteo moves in for the first time, crouching beside him, checking if he can be dragged away. He doesn't look at us. I don't let go of Lucien. My arms stay around him, as if I lose them, the rage in him might come back. His cheek brushes my hair. I feel his breath shudder against my skin.
Matteo dials Elena and asks for the cleanup. Then we hit the road. Matteo yanks open the back door for us, and I slide in first, and Lucien comes after me. Nobody speaks. The ride is silent except for the low hum of the engine and the occasional hiss of tires against pavement.
Lucien is not looking out of the window. I am sitting rigid in my seat, hands clasped in my lap, and my mind is running in circles. For the first time, I am feeling a heat radiating from Lucien. The darkness in his eyes refuses to fade even after the fight ends.
By the time the car rolls through the iron gates, I have no idea how much time has passed. The moment the driver parks, Lucien pushes the door open and climbs out. He walks towards his wing.
I am standing outside the car, watching him disappear into the shadows of his side of the house.
Matteo comes around and stops next to me. I turn toward him, ready to demand answers, finally. But he spoke first. Damn.
"Lucien could have killed you." There is a rough edge in his voice along with a hint of steadiness.
I blink and then squint at him. "Do you really think he dropped seven million on me just to kill me?" I jab a finger in his direction.
Matteo exhales slowly, and the sound is almost a sigh. "Do you even know why he bought you?"
I shrug, the corners of my mouth twitch into something that isn't quite a smile. "Nobody bothers to tell me. Including Lucien."
Matteo's eyes dart at me. "Maybe you should start asking the right questions before you find out the wrong way."
I narrow my eyes; there is something in his tone, something that isn't just warning. It is almost...protective? Or maybe I am imagining it. Hell. Matteo is as difficult to read as Lucien. The only difference is that he doesn't have monstrous dark eyes like Lucien.
I shift my weight and cross my arms. "What are you talking about, Matteo?"
Matteo's humorless smirk. "You have been here long enough to know Lucien's world isn't safe for anyone. Especially you."
I raise my brow. "Would you like to take the honor of telling me about it?"
I hadn't expected him to answer me at all. I am ready for a dodge, a half-truth, or maybe some cryptic warning like I usually get in this mansion from everyone except Clara and Beatrice.
Matteo looks straight into my eyes and then says, "You look like a girl Lucien loved a lot. She was murdered. And her body parts were sent to him in several boxes to scare him. That was the first night he didn't sleep, and since then, he can't sleep at night."
His words struck me deeply. I forget how to breathe. No gasp. No sound, just a sharp, empty pressure in my chest. My stomach twists so hard I think I may throw up right here on the floor.
Matteo's voice pulls me back. "And that auction night wasn't a coincidence."
I am looking at Matteo, but inside I am thinking of the pain Lucien had been through. Maybe these kinda incidents carved a man into what I have seen in that hotel's hallway.
I blink, carrying hundreds of questions in my eyes. Matteo adds. "Don't think Lucien bought you only because you look alike, Sonya."
I am ready to fire questions, but Matteo doesn't give me the chance; he turns on his heels and walks away.