Christopher did not like being told no.
Especially not by a woman who walked away from him without permission. Christopher was obsessed with Lucinda constant presence in the bar, He returned to the bar the following evening, scanning every staff that entered and left the bar, his obsession grew and so was his patience, he was running out of patience and Lucinda's absence had become a constant itch beneath his skin, a humming irritation that grew louder with every sleepless night. He hadn't received any word from her since she left the city in a hurry; he had no way to reach her, but Christopher understood. He realized that her separation was not merely a matter of distance.
Christopher jumps into his SUV, locates the address that Lucy entered, and drives directly to the spot.
Sweet, naïve Elena, The one who always laughed too quickly and trusted too easily.
He cornered her on her way to mall, dressed in his usual tailored black suit with a navy tie and mirrored shades that concealed his predatory gaze.
"Hi," he said smoothly, falling in step beside her. "We need to talk."
She jumped. "Who are you—?"
He held up a hand. "Don't play dumb. I know you know where Lucinda is."
"I don't know who you are, i can't just give out such information—"
"But i know who you are, look i drove here because i am concern about your friend?" he said, voice low but cutting.
Within the hour, he had everything he needed—Lucinda's full name, her address in Atlanta, and the reason she left.
The quiet hum of Atlanta's early morning traffic was interrupted by the low roar of a black Mercedes Benz pulling up to the sidewalk of a modest apartment complex on the east side of the city. The man who stepped out was dressed sharply in a navy coat and leather gloves, his dark hair neatly combed, his expression unreadable.
Christopher.
He adjusted the cuff of his coat as he approached the front door; he pressed the intercom.
Lucinda's mother answered the door.
He hadn't expected that.
She blinked at him. "Can I help you?"
He straightened his tie. "Yes. I'm here to see Lucinda. I'm an old friend."
There was hesitation. A pause. Then she nodded and stepped aside.
"She's in the back with her father."
At that, Christopher's brows rose.
Her father?
He hadn't been part of the equation for years—or so he thought.
He followed the woman through the house and stepped out onto the back porch, where Lucinda sat under a tree with her back to him, her father seated across from her. They were talking, voices low and solemn, until they noticed him.
Lucinda turned. Her face drained of color.
"Are you following me?" she breathed, standing so quickly her chair scraped against the concrete.
Her father rose more slowly. His face wore a strange expression—recognition, dread, and something else. Guilt.
"Hello," Christopher said casually, hands in his pockets. "You left without saying goodbye."
"What the hell are you doing here?" she snapped.
Christopher ignored the venom in her voice and turned to the older man.
"Good to see you again, David."
Lucinda's head whipped between them. "Wait… what?"
Her father swallowed hard. "Lucy, I—"
Christopher stepped forward, lips curling. "Maybe he forgot to mention we've met before. Years ago. When he needed help."
Lucinda's stomach dropped. "Help? What kind of help?"
David looked like he wanted the earth to open up and swallow him whole.
"Christopher," he said softly, "don't—"
"She deserves the truth," Christopher cut in. "Don't you think?"
Lucinda folded her arms, voice trembling. "Someone better start talking."
Her father sighed. "I owed money… a lot of money. Years ago. Before I came back. I tried to pay it off, but the interest kept climbing. Then… Christopher's family stepped in."
Lucinda's throat felt tight. "What does that have to do with me?"
Christopher's eyes glittered.
"He agreed to settle the debt if I married you," he said flatly. "Your father made a deal. Your brother's surgery, your medical bills, all of it—it's been paid. By me."
Lucinda stared at them both, numbness spreading like frost across her chest.
"No," she whispered. "You're lying."
"I wish I was," her father muttered.
"You sold me?" she gasped, stepping back. "You sold me like property?"
"It wasn't like that," David said quickly. "You needed help. Lucas—he was dying. I had no choice."
"There's always a choice!" Lucinda's voice cracked. "And you chose to hand me over to—" she pointed at Christopher, "—this man like I was some pawn in your mess."
Christopher's jaw clenched, but he said nothing.
Lucinda turned on him, eyes burning. "You knew. This whole time. You knew my family was drowning, and you used it to manipulate me."
"I didn't know who you were until i laid eyes on you," he said quietly.
"All of that was just you putting on a show? ," she spat. "You knew who i was."
Christopher's face hardened. "I did what I had to do."
Lucinda shook her head. "No. You did what suited you. What gave you control. You played the savior, but you were just another wolf in a suit."
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Her father stepped forward, guilt written across his face. "Lucy, I know what I did is unforgivable, but I did it because I thought I was protecting you."
Lucinda turned away, blinking back tears. "You don't get to call that protection. You weren't protecting me—you were protecting your pride. All this time i taught you were here to make amends, but you had your own little agenda, i worked my butt off for this family"
She stormed back inside the house, slamming the door behind her.
That evening, Lucinda sat in Lucas's room, watching her brother sleep. Her mind spun in circles, unable to settle.
Was it all a lie?
Her phone buzzed beside her.
A message from Christopher: "I didn't mean for it to happen like this."
She didn't reply.