After slamming the door of Lucien's car and walking away, she expected to feel relief. Instead, her chest ached.
The next few days were a blur. She threw herself into work at the club, drowning in music, flashing lights, and the comfort of routine. But even when men slipped bills into her hands and whispered sweet nothings, all she could think about was him.
Lucien.
It was pathetic. She hated herself for it.
Then one night, just as she was finishing her shift, a familiar presence made her body tense.
She didn't have to look to know he was there.
Lucien.
He sat in the VIP section, legs spread lazily, a drink in his hand. His eyes were locked onto her, unreadable, intense.
She swallowed hard, turning away. She wasn't going to fall for this. She had told him she was done.
But when she stepped off the stage, he was already there, blocking her path.
"Going somewhere, babygirl?"
His voice was smooth, but there was something darker beneath it.
Gemma lifted her chin. "You don't own me, Lucien."
A slow smirk tugged at his lips. "That's cute," he murmured, stepping closer. "You think you can walk away from me?"
Her heart pounded. "I already did."
Lucien reached out, brushing a finger along her jaw. "Then why are you shaking?"
She hated that he was right. Hated the way her body betrayed her.
She needed to get out of here. Away from him.
But Lucien wasn't the kind of man who let go so easily.
And she wasn't sure she really wanted him to.
---
Gemma turned to leave, but Lucien blocked her path. Every time she stepped sideways, he mirrored her, his expression unreadable.
"Come with me," he said, his voice low and firm.
Before she could protest, he took her hand and led her outside.
"Lucien, let go," she hissed, trying to yank her hand away.
"Shh," he warned, eyes scanning their surroundings. No one knew what he looked like—not even half the men who worked for him. They knew of him, feared his name, but his face remained a mystery. And he wanted to keep it that way.
Ignoring her struggles, he scooped her up effortlessly.
"Lucien, put me down!" she whisper-shouted, kicking her legs, but he barely reacted.
"Keep fighting me, babygirl, and I'll make sure you regret it," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear.
Gemma froze, her heart hammering, and in that moment of hesitation, he slid her into the car and shut the door.
As soon as the engine roared to life, she reached for the handle, but Lucien caught her wrist, his grip firm yet controlled.
"Stop," he said, pulling her close until she was practically on his lap. His warmth seeped into her skin, his scent wrapping around her. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to talk."
"I don't want to talk," she shot back, crossing her arms. "Why don't you go talk to Katherine instead?"
The second the words left her mouth, she regretted them.
Damn it. Now she sounded jealous.
Lucien's lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk.
"Are you jealous, Gemma?"
She scowled, looking away, but that only made his smirk widen.
He was enjoying this.
And that irritated her even more.