Page 21 of Until She’s Mine

Lucian

M orning light slants through the penthouse windows, painting golden stripes across the rumpled sheets where Evelyn sleeps.

Her breath is slow and even, her dark lashes fanned against her cheeks. In sleep, she’s unguarded. There are no carefully constructed smiles, no walls to keep me out. Just softness, warmth, and trust so fragile it makes my chest ache.

Mine.

I should let her rest. Last night tore through her like a storm, leaving her trembling and spent in my arms. But I can’t resist tracing the curve of her bare shoulder with my fingertips, committing the feel of her skin to memory.

Then I get up and move to the kitchen to brew coffee, the rich aroma filling the space as I methodically prepare two cups: black for me, latte for her.

I find my phone on the kitchen counter, its screen lit with notifications. A few voicemails from Tobias and a string of texts from my father. I ignore my father’s questions about my current case and press play on Tobias’s first voicemail. His voice is raw, a mix of anger and desperation.

“You sick fuck! I’ll ruin—”

Delete.

“She’ll never choose a monster like—”

Delete.

“You think you can take her? Evelyn and I had a deal. You can’t—”

Delete.

Through the open doorway, I can see the faint rise and fall of the sheets where Evelyn sleeps.

My fingers tighten around the mug. Even now, part of me expects this to be another dream, another cruel trick my mind has conjured after years of wanting.

But the lingering scent of jasmine on my skin is real.

The ache in my muscles from holding her all night is real, too.

A soft sound from the bedroom draws my attention.

Evelyn stirs, her hand stretching across the empty space where I lay moments ago.

Her eyes flutter open, drowsy and disoriented.

When they find me standing in the doorway, her gaze shifts.

Awareness dawns, and memories of last night surface. A blush creeps up her throat.

“Morning,” she murmurs, voice sleep-rough and impossibly sweet.

I cross to her in ten strides, setting her coffee on the nightstand before cupping her face in my hands. Her skin is warm beneath my palms as I press my mouth to hers without a word. The kiss is slow, thorough. When I pull back, her lips are parted, eyes dark with desire.

She reaches for me, but I take a step back.

“Drink your coffee,” I say softly. “We have things to discuss.”

Her fingers curl around the warm mug, her eyes on me as she takes a tentative sip.

The steam curls around her face, softening her features, but there’s a tension in her shoulders that wasn’t there when she woke up.

She sets the mug down carefully, her gaze steady despite the flush still lingering on her cheeks.

“What things?” she asks.

I lean against the edge of the bed, my arms crossed. “We should go out of town for the weekend.”

It’s my opportunity to spend more time with Evelyn. While everyone else calm the fuck down.

Evelyn blinks. “Out of town?”

She sits up straighter, the sheets pooling around her waist, her hair tousled from sleep.

But then her eyes catch on my forearm. My tattoo .

For a moment, she just stares, her brow furrowing as if she’s trying to decipher the intricate lines.

Her fingers brush against the swirl of dark ink that seems to shift and coil like smoke. “Is that?”

“Vinci knot.”

“And my name?”

The intricate swirls of the Vinci knot—a symbol of endless connection, of unbreakable bonds—are unmistakable. But there, woven into the design, is her name: Evelyn. It’s subtle, almost hidden within the pattern, but once you see it, it’s impossible to miss.

“Yes.”

Evelyn’s lips part, but no words come out. Her chest rises and falls with quick, shallow breaths.

“When?” she finally asks.

“Three years,” I admit without hesitation. “I had it done after the first time I spoke to you. After I realized you were the only person who could unravel me completely. And I knew, even then, that you were it for me.”

“You got my name tattooed on your arm after one conversation? On the day Tobias brought me to the family dinner?”

I hum affirmatively, moving back to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Evelyn follows me, her bare feet padding softly against the polished floor. She leans against the counter, watching me with those wide, searching eyes.

“That night, you barely said a word to me. I thought you didn’t like me.”

I crack an egg into the frying pan, the yolk breaking and spreading out in a golden pool. “I didn’t trust myself to speak,” I admit. “One word, one look, and I would have crossed a line I couldn’t come back from.”

She exhales sharply, her fingers tightening around her coffee mug. “And now? Do you trust yourself now?”

I glance at her over my shoulder. “No. But I don’t care anymore.” I turn back to the stove, flipping the bacon. “You’re worth every line I’ve crossed and every rule I’ve broken.”

She’s silent for a long moment, the only sound is the sizzle of bacon in the pan and the soft hum of the city outside. Then she sets her coffee down and steps closer, her hand coming to rest on my arm.

“Lucian,” Evelyn breathes. “You say all these things about how you’ve waited for me, how you’ve wanted me, but I need to know… is this real? Because I can’t—” She breaks off. “I can’t keep doing this if it’s not real.”

I turn to face her fully, my hands leaving the stove to cup her face. “You think I’d mark myself permanently for anything less than forever?”

“Forever is a long time.”

“Not when it’s with you.”

She shakes her head. “You don’t know me yet. Not really.”

“Then come with me. Let me learn every part of you. Let me show you what’s between us isn’t just real. It’s inevitable.”

Her breath hitches. “Where would we go?”

“Somewhere no one can find us,” I say, my thumb brushing over her cheekbone. “A place where the world fades away, and it’s just you and me. No Tobias, no expectations, no noise. Just us.”

“And after? What happens when we come back to reality?”

There’s fear in her eyes—of what this means, of what comes next—but beneath it, there’s a flicker of hope, fragile but undeniable.

“We face it together.” My hands slide down to her shoulders, anchoring her to me. “I’m not na?ve enough to think this will be easy. Tobias will fight, my father will disapprove, and the world will judge. But none of that matters as long as I have you.”

“You really believe that?”

“I do,” I say, pulling her closer until our foreheads touch. Her breath mingles with mine. “I’ll fight for us, Evelyn. I’ll tear down anyone or anything that tries to stand in our way.”

I know she doesn’t think I can protect her from the consequences of choosing me over him. But she’s underestimating what I’m capable of. What I’ve already done to ensure our path forward is clear.

Slowly, she nods. “Okay.”

Relief floods through me, though I keep my expression steady. “Okay?” I repeat, needing to hear it again.

“Yes. Let’s go.”

I press a kiss to her forehead, my lips lingering against her skin. The warmth of her, the scent of flowers still clinging to her hair. It’s almost too much. But I force myself to pull back, to keep my composure. “Drink your coffee. We leave in an hour.”