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A mother can endure anything-hardship, pain, exhaustion, sleepless nights, and cruel words. Magdalena had long become numb to the insults people hurled at her. So why did it feel like her entire world collapsed when Lucian Viktor Moretti judged and humiliated her to her face?
Lena could hardly breathe. Lucian's handsome face was the opposite of his coarse, cruel personality.
She knew where she came from was shameful. She understood it was hard for anyone to believe that she didn't want the life she was forced to live-but what choice did she have?
"What did you say, Lucian?" Viktor's tone was sharp and edged with warning.
Lucian smirked. "What did I say?" He turned to her, eyes glinting. "Did I say something?"
Lena swallowed, fighting to stay composed in front of him. She didn't understand why shefelt suffocated when he threw her hurtful words.
He is Viktor's son. The first man she slept with after going back to his life was Viktor's son. The son of the old man she's promised to marry. They looked alike, but Lucian drew her in. He wasn't just handsome-there was something else about him, something that made her heart beat faster for all the wrong reasons.
"N-Nothing..." Lena turned to Viktor. "He didn't say anything."
Lucian chuckled softly, and Lena's nerves spiked even more. There was something electric, dangerous in his gaze, filled with mischievous fire. "What are you talking about, little liar? I did say something. I said: Welcome."
"Lucian!" Viktor's voice thundered. "Don't disrespect Lena!"
Lucian simply grinned before walking away and heading up the stairs, leaving Lena frozen in place, chilled to the bone.
Moments later, Viktor gently placed a hand on her back. "I'm sorry about my son, Lena. He's always been like that. He grew up without a mother. My first wife died early, and things only got worse when I tried marrying again."
Lena gave a faint smile. "It's okay, Viktor. Uhm... can I rest now?"
"Of course!" He nodded and smiled warmly. "I'll take you to your room."
"Angel..." Lena called out to her daughter, who had been watching silently. The little girl quickly ran to her side.
Viktor led them to the guest room, and Lena felt a strange wave of relief and joy as she saw the space. A large bed stood at the center, flanked by two vanities-one standard-sized and one smaller. The room was beautiful. Air-conditioned, spacious, with a couch inside, a TV, and its own bathroom.
A lump rose in Lena's throat as tears welled in her eyes. She turned to Viktor.
He smiled. "You deserve a good life. I'll give you everything, Lena. I'll give you what your husband once did."
Lena sniffled and nodded. "Thank you..."
He kissed her forehead gently. "Get some rest. I'll have a maid call you when it's time for dinner."
Once Viktor left, Lena looked at her daughter. Angel's eyes sparkled as she stared at the neatly arranged dolls by the wall. A pink play tent stood beside various stuffed toys.
"M-Mama..." her daughter whimpered, eyes glistening with tears. "Is he going to be my papa?"
Lena's tears fell as she pulled her daughter into an embrace. "I'm sorry, sweetheart... I'm so sorry..."
"Mama, I don't want him. I only have one papa. I don't want anyone else."
Lena sobbed softly. "But he's kind, baby. He'll take care of us."
"But Mama..." Angel's cries turned to wailing, and Lena couldn't help but cry with her.
She hugged her daughter tightly. "I'm sorry, my love... Please don't hate me. You're all I have left. I don't want to do this-but I have to. I'll do everything to give you a good life..."
It wouldn't be easy, but Lena would endure. She would bear everything. Viktor gave her freedom, and now she would repay him-in whatever way matched the price of that salvation.
Lena padded quietly into the kitchen, her bare feet silent against the cold marble floor. She poured herself a glass of water, the chill of the house wrapping around her even in the thick silence. She couldn't sleep. Not because of the bed or the comfort-it was too quiet. Too heavy.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
Then-bam.
The refrigerator door shut beside her. She flinched.
Lucian.
He stood just a breath away, the glow from the overhead lights casting sharp shadows on his chiseled face. His eyes were half-lidded, but the intensity behind them was unmistakable. Like a flame simmering just beneath the surface.
"You always wander around strangers' houses in the middle of the night?" he asked, voice low, slightly hoarse, and far too intimate for the distance between them.
The tension she felt when they first had physical contact rose inside her, strong and undefeatable.
Lena swallowed. "Just needed a drink."
Lucian stepped forward, and she instinctively leaned back, her spine brushing against the fridge. He didn't touch her. But his presence was invasive-thick, consuming.
"You're not what I expected," he murmured, eyes never leaving hers.
Lena tried to steady her breathing. "Neither are you."
His lips curled. "You expected a spoiled brat? Or a rich boy throwing tantrums because Daddy brought home a new toy?"
Her fingers tightened around the glass. "I'm not here to take anything from you."
He leaned in, his voice now a whisper-sharp, slicing through the quiet. "Aren't you?"
Lena's heart pounded. His words weren't loud, but they reverberated deep inside her.
"You're smart, Magdalena. You know what my father wants from you. What he expects. Tell me-will you give it to him?" His gaze dropped slowly, trailing over her lips, her neck, and lower. "Or are you saving that for someone else?"
She stiffened. "Is there a point to this conversation?"
Lucian's voice was like velvet laced with venom. "Oh, there's a point. I'm warning you."
"About what?" she snapped.
He stepped even closer. She could feel the heat radiating from his body. "About playing with fire you don't understand."
Lena forced herself to stand tall. "I've been burned before. This house isn't the first hell I've walked into."
That caught him off guard-just a flicker of surprise in those dark eyes. But it was gone in a breath.
He let out a quiet, humorless laugh. "God, you're something else."
"And you're drunk," she said, even though his eyes were too clear for that to be true.
"Just enough to forget how much I hate that you're exactly my type," he whispered, voice barely audible, eyes boring into her. "Remember the night you begged me to take you and pounce inside you deep and hard? You will be haunted by those memories."
Lena's breath caught. Her knees trembled slightly, and she hated it. She hated the fact that one mention of that moment could make her tremble and weak.
Lucian's hand rose-slow, deliberate-and for a terrifying second she thought he might touch her. But it didn't land on her body. Instead, he placed it flat against the fridge door behind her, leaning in just close enough for her to feel his breath on her cheek.
"You smell like sin and salvation," he said with a wicked grin. "I bet that's how you got him wrapped around your finger."
Lena's chest heaved. "You don't know anything about me."
"Oh, I will." His words were a promise. A threat. Both. "I will know everything, Magdalena. And the first thing I've learned was to tame this tempting body."
Right! He was right. He managed to tame her body after one hot night. He managed to introduce his strong effects on her. At one try.
He pulled back. But not before dropping his final words like a curse:
"Don't fall for the fairytale, Magdalena. This isn't your second chance. It's your trap. And I might just be the one who snaps it shut. Whether through your body or any other way."
Then he turned and walked away, leaving her trembling.
Lena stood frozen. Shaken. Not from fear-but from the pull. That unwanted spark inside her-dangerous and hot-threatening to become something uncontrollable.
And she hated herself for wondering what it would feel like if he did touch her. Again.