Chapter 15: I Offer You Myself

Chapter 15: I Offer You Myself Lucien’s POV And just like that, my rage flared—sharp and immediate. But underneath it, something twisted inside me. It wasn’t pity or me going soft or easy on someone. It was a heavier, sharper feeling that made my chest tighten in a way I wasn’t used to. "Open the door," I ordered, my voice low and tight. "Let that person in." The moment I saw her, I knew it. The dirt, the mess, the desperation—of course, it had to be her. Seraphina. Again. Why the hell was I always running into her like this? Always broken. Always showing up in the worst possible state. Was I her damn savior or some cursed soul tied to her downfall? I wasn’t sure what pissed me off more—the sight of her like this, or the fact that it was becoming a pattern. Don’t tell me I’m her guardian angel. What a laugh. Her brother might’ve thought so when he practically begged me to keep an eye on her. Like I owed him something. I should’ve said no and should’ve just walked away. But no. She was here again. And so was I. She looked haggard, sitting on the floor as if she might faint any second. But the moment she saw me, she rose to her feet, wobbly, barely able to stand. "What happened?" I asked, my voice cold and detached. She didn’t answer. Just stood there, silent, stubborn, like she still had something left to protect. Like pride hadn’t already been stripped from her. I had offered her help before, and she refused it. She thought she could handle the world alone. Now look at her. Standing in front of me, broken, again. And this time, she looked even worse. Her brother might’ve thought I could save her, but I’m no saint. I’m the devil she keeps finding by accident. And somehow, she keeps falling right back into my den. What kind of twisted fate was this? I didn’t know. And honestly, I didn’t care anymore. "He... help me!" She finally managed to say those two words before collapsing to the floor. "Why should I?" I snapped. I wasn’t in the mood to play the savior anymore. She’d already ruined my plan. I was in the middle of torturing someone for information about this place. After two hours of careful preparation, I had planned to raise hell here. Now, because of her intrusion, everything either stalled or was rushed ahead recklessly. "I... I give you everything I have," she muttered, searching for whatever little she owned. It didn’t look like much. "I’m waiting," I said, running my fingers through my messy hair as I stared at her. I grabbed her chin and forced her to meet my gaze. "I don’t have all the time in the world." "I... I will give you myself," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes wet. "I’ll give you my body." I froze. What the hell did she just say? Did she even know what those words meant? Little girl, you’re playing with fire! She was desperate—so desperate that she offered herself to me like she was nothing. My breath hitched, heat crawling up my neck. I let go of her and slowly stood up, needing space. My hands were clenched at my sides. I didn’t know if I was angry at her... or myself for reacting to that. My lips parted, but no words came out. She just sat there, breathing heavily, watching me with her messy look and broken heart. Still trying to hold onto some kind of strength. Damn it. This wasn’t what I wanted. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Before I could say a word, a sharp knock hit the door. "Master," a guard’s voice came from the other side. "Someone is here. Should I take a look?" I inhaled sharply, brushing my hair back as I dragged my gaze off her. "Yeah. Go," I said coldly, flicking my hand. "If they’re here for her..." I paused, my voice sinking into something darker. "Beat the shit out of them." I didn’t even need to wait for the guard’s confirmation. A crash echoed from outside. Fists and kicks landing everywhere. I walked toward the door, slow and composed, each step a warning. I wasn’t in the mood to be interrupted again. Not after she just threw that line at me. Through the slightly cracked doorway, I caught sight of the intruders. Over seven men. One already on the floor, groaning in pain, my men surrounding them like a pack ready to tear flesh. "Which one of you wants to die first?" I asked, my voice low, calm... it was dangerously calm. One of them lunged. Stupid move. I sidestepped, grabbed his wrist mid-swing, and twisted it back until I heard the satisfying pop of bone dislocating. He screamed in pain. Another came from the side, but before he could land a hit, my elbow was in his throat. He dropped like a puppet with cut strings. I handled half of them myself. The rest were dragged out by my men like trash. The last one hesitated—smart, but not smart enough to run. I stalked toward him slowly. He backed away, shaking. "You came all the way here for a girl," I said, cracking my knuckles. "Then bleed for her." He tried to run. I grabbed him by the collar, slammed his face into the wall hard enough to leave a bloody print. He whimpered, sliding down like dead weight. I turned to my guards. "Strip them out of their clothes. Then toss them out. If they crawl back in, you don’t leave them breathing next time." "Yes, Master." I wiped the blood from my knuckles with a handkerchief and stepped back inside. She was still on the floor, eyes wide, trembling, not with fear. With something else. Good. Let her see exactly what kind of man she offered herself to and feel the tension she ignited, the madness she had put me through.