Lucas, who was standing in front of her, froze for a brief moment. His body went rigid as her words echoed in his mind—those same words he had once said to her when she had felt insecure about Amelia and his relationship.
She turned to walk out of the room again, without saying a word. But he stepped forward quickly, blocking her way.
“It’s late at night. Where are you going?” he asked.
“I don’t want to stay here,” she replied calmly.
“You don’t have to leave,” he insisted. “It’s the middle of the night. It’s not safe. Just... stay for tonight.”
She hesitated. Her body didn’t want to remain here, not even a second longer. But the clock had already slipped past ten. With a long, silent look—tired, reluctant—she finally muttered, “Fine.”
Without another word, she turned and walked out of his room, heading to the guest room. She had left some old clothes there, tucked away because her bag had been too full. She changed into them quietly, then slipped under the covers and lay in bed, her back to the door, eyes open in the dark.
As the night deepened, Emily eventually fell asleep. Her body was worn down from the emotional storm and a full day of work at Jacob’s office. For a while, sleep gave her the peace she’d needed.
Sometime during the night, she didn’t realize when the door to her room quietly creaked open, or when Lucas stepped inside, moving silently across the floor.
She only began to stir when she felt warmth against her back—his arm sliding beneath her nightshirt and resting against her bare waist. His face buried into the crook of her neck from behind, and his other hand slipped under her head, gently tugging her closer to his body.
He pressed soft kisses along her neckline, down to her shoulder. His breath fanned across her skin, coaxing her from sleep.
Emily stirred.
Her lashes fluttered. Her eyes opened, dazed, until they locked on him.
When he noticed she was awake, he climbed on top of her, straddling her. His face hovered inches above hers, elbow resting on her pillow as he looked down into her eyes. His hand cupped her face gently, thumb brushing her cheek. His face was tense and troubled as he spoke in a soft, pleading voice.
“Emily…” his voice was low, almost a whisper. “Can you stop being angry with me?”
She stared at him in silence.
“I need you to stop making things difficult now. Whatever you want—I’ll give it to you, okay? Just stay with me. Come back home tomorrow with your suitcase. I won’t speak to Amelia anymore. I won’t even see her.”
He brushed her hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering for just a second too long. “I’ll give you your position back at the office. You want to work as a designer again, right? I’ll make you the lead designer. You can have any role you want. Just… come home.”
She lay silent for a moment. Then she gently pulled his hand away from her face.
“I’m not interested in any of it,” she said quietly. “I don’t want a job from you. I don’t want any position at your company. And I don’t want to come back to this house. I’ve made that clear already.”
Lucas didn’t respond. Instead, he leaned in closer.
His hand, still beneath her shirt, slid higher—gripping her waist and pulling her tightly against him, closing the already non-existent distance between them.
“Then come back for me,” he whispered, his face inches from hers. He pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek before his lips moved close to her ear. “Do you want me to please you? Will that make you stay?”
His hand slid higher. Her body stiffened.
But that didn’t stop him.
He trailed his hand along the side of her chest, up to her breast. His thumb flicked lightly over her nipple. His mouth pressed hot kisses against her neck and cheek, his breath warm and ragged.
“Every time you’re angry at me, I do this,” he whispered. “I touch you until you forget. I pleasure you until your anger disappears. So this time… I’ll make you forget again.”
His words sank into her skin like poison and heat. His thumb circled her nipple again, friction rising. His lips grazed her cheek, and his breath burned against her neck.
Emily’s chest rose and fell unevenly. Her breath was shallow, her body reacting despite her resistance.
But then—she reached down, grabbed his wrist, and yanked his hand out from under her shirt. She shoved it aside.
