Chapter 3 I want her

Lucien

My parents' house is always buzzing with guests, even during the day. There's always someone around always an audience. Exhausting, isn't it? That's exactly why my twin brother and I prefer to stay as far away from them as possible.

Tonight, however, was unavoidable. They were hosting one of their infamous parties, and of course, we were expected to attend. As usual, the house was packed. Music, laughter, the clink of glasses it was all just noise to me. I stood in a corner, feigning interest in conversations with the same recycled faces we saw at every event. It was painfully dull, but we owed our parents a brief appearance.

But where the hell is Braton?

I subtly shifted my gaze over my shoulder while pretending to listen to one of my cousins boast about his latest business venture. My focus, however, was on scanning the crowd for my brother.

Braton is my twin-where I'm the brains, he's the brawn. He's impulsive, aggressive, always quick to throw a punch before thinking. And that's why I've spent half our lives figuring out ways to clean up his messes. Now that we're adults, it makes sense I run the business, he runs security. But together, we run the club.

Need your money laundered through a high-end nightclub? Call me. Need someone to collect a debt or break a kneecap? That's Braton. It's a system everyone in our world understands. Just like they understand one more thing about us: we have... particular tastes when it comes to women.

We share. One night. No repeats. That's the rule. We like to watch, take turns, indulge-but never get attached. After that, the thrill is gone.

We live on a large estate, which we prefer over our apartment in the city. Even when we weren't under the same roof, the moment we found a woman worth bringing home, we were back in sync. My mother hated our unpredictable living situation-especially the lack of stability, marriage, and children. But love? That wasn't in the cards for us. We didn't date. We didn't do emotional. We fucked and moved on. Simple. Clean. No guilt.

Women threw themselves at us. It used to be flattering-now it's just boring.

I snapped out of my thoughts to find my cousin staring at me, clearly waiting for an answer.

"So, what do you think?" he asked again.

Fuck. I had no clue what he was talking about. Usually, I could slide my way through any conversation with ease. But before I could fake a smooth response, something-or other, someone-caught my eye.

A woman was walking backward... directly into me.

I shifted my glass to the side just in time to avoid soaking her dress, but the drink splashed onto the floor and my shoes.

"What the hell," I muttered, irritation flaring. I looked down, prepared to let her have it-until I saw her face.

Big doe eyes. Soft, delicate features. A look of surprise and innocence like she'd been made just for me. Just for us. Her raven-black hair fell in curls over one shoulder, and the dress she wore clung to every curve like a second skin.

Goddess. Absolutely divine.

"I'm so sorry," she blurted, dropping to her knees to wipe the liquor off my shoes.

Was she serious?

I crouched down and gently grabbed her arm, feeling the softness of her skin beneath my fingers.

"Stand up," I said, my voice firm but gentle.

Don't get me wrong-I'd love to have this woman on her knees. Just not like this. Not here. She was too beautiful for something so degrading. She deserved to be worshipped. Every inch of that body deserved reverence.

"You're way too gorgeous to be cleaning my shoes," I said with a smile that seemed to stun her. She froze, those bright eyes wide with anxiety.

"I don't think we've met. I'm Lucien Romano." I offered my hand, but the moment I said my name, she looked as if she might faint.

So she knows who I am. But who is she?

"Hello," she said, barely a whisper.

My smile widened. Fuck, she's nervous. I like that.

"And you are?" I prompted.

"Sophie... Sophie Powell." Her voice shook, her eyes darting around the room.

She was searching for someone. My gaze followed hers until it landed on Hannah.

"I'm sorry again. I wasn't looking where I was going," she said softly, and something about the way she said it lit a spark in me.

"It's pretty hard to, when you're walking backward," I teased, giving her a sly grin. Her cheeks flushed pink.

"If you'll excuse me..." she breathed, and then she was gone-practically running away.

That was new. Women didn't run from me.

She didn't belong in this crowd of plastic smiles and hollow souls. And I was drawn to her like a fucking magnet. I watched until she disappeared from view, just as Braton appeared, making a beeline for the bar and helping himself to a bottle of wine.

A few people tried to stop me for conversation, but I wasn't in the mood. I had to tell my brother about her. About Sophie.

When I finally reached him, I came up behind the bar and cut straight to the point.

"You're never going to believe what-"

"Not now," he snapped, not even looking at me.

I stepped to the side and followed his line of sight-straight to the same woman who was still haunting my thoughts.

"That's exactly who I came to talk to you about," I muttered, leaning on the bar.

Braton's eyes were locked on her, dark with interest.

"You know her?" he asked, his breathing picking up.

"Just met her. Name's Sophie."

"Who the fuck is she?" he muttered, practically drooling.

"No idea. Looks like Hannah brought her. We only spoke for a few seconds. But she's... perfect."

He nodded, still staring.

"How did you meet her?"

"She bumped into me. Spilled my drink."

I paused for effect.

"Then she dropped to her knees and tried to clean my shoes."

Braton exhaled a hard breath, gripping the bar tightly, his jaw clenched.

"I want her," he growled, his voice thick with desire.

"That's up to her," I said coolly.

"Then go convince her," he snapped.

I noticed something he hadn't.

"She's watching us," I said.

His brows lifted.

"Through the mirror," I added, nodding toward the wall. She wasn't looking at us directly-but her eyes were glued to the reflection.

"Well," he said with a slow grin, "go work your magic."

"I was planning on it." I smirked, sending her a wink through the mirror, followed by a faint smile.

Then I stood, ready to uncover the mystery behind the woman who had just turned our night-and maybe more-completely upside down.