Lethal Temptation (by Michelle Ray) novel Chapter 20

20 (Lucian POV) His Side

Lucian

I enjoyed hunting with Mara.

More than I expected.

I never hunted with Tina. That wasn’t her thing. She preferred soft lights, champagne, and

overpriced meals at restaurants I couldn’t really afford.

I might own the company now, but I still lived like a man with a ceiling.

My father made sure of that-“Work your way up,” he said. So I did.

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Which meant I got a paycheck like everyone else. No special privileges, just the pressure of legacy

without the cushion.

Tina never quite understood that. She wanted the image, the illusion of power, but not the reality of

limits. And I went along with it for too long–paying for her tastes, stretching myself thin, always

trying to keep her happy.

She’s out of my life now.

It didn’t end well, and it still stings. But no matter how much I thought about her, I couldn’t disrespect my wife.

I couldn’t string Tina along, asking her to be the woman in the shadows. She deserved better. She

deserved someone who could choose her fully. I couldn’t be that man anymore.

Even if she hadn’t let go.

Mara, though…

Mara surprised me.

Her wolf form was something else–graceful, wild, almost regal. That grey fur, the way she

moved… I felt a protective instinct rise in me that I didn’t expect. And when she let the deer go? I

didn’t say anything, but I was stunned. She was supposed to be Darian’s best friend. And Darian

never let prey go. Ever.

Maybe she did it for me. Or maybe there was more to her than any of us had bothered to see.

I wanted to do something for her, so I reached out to her mother. Asked for help picking out

toiletries and some casual clothes.

Nothing extravagant–I didn’t have the money for that, not yet–but something to make her feel like

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she had a place here.

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I’d already sunk most of my balance into her closet, even though it was clear she hated what I

chose. That stung more than I expected.

I’d wanted to see her in them.

But I knew Mara wasn’t ready. Maybe she never would be. So I asked her mother to bring some of

her old things, something familiar.

When I got back, she wasn’t in the room.

Austin confirmed she was still around, but I didn’t link her. I almost did, but pulled back. If she wanted space, I’d give it.

Then she walked in.

The moment she entered, I smelled him on her–Darian. My own brother.

Her lips were swollen. Her scent changed. I didn’t need her to explain.

She still wanted him.

After everything she knew–after Tiffany, after the rumors, after the chaos he dragged into her life

-she still wanted him.

It shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did. And it burned.

I thought she was stronger. Wiser. I thought what she’d been through might’ve cleared her vision. But maybe love really was that blinding. Maybe in her case, it was blinding and stupid.

I was angry. No question.

But I didn’t show it. Didn’t let it bleed into my tone. I couldn’t afford to.

Was this how it was going to be? Watching her drift back to Darian? Would they start sleeping

together while I played the fool in the same house?

I’d told her she could do what she liked, but I didn’t mean that. I wasn’t doing what I liked. If I were,

she’d be wearing my mark. She’d be mine in every way. But I held back–for her.

And now, I wondered if I’d just made space for someone else to claim what I hadn’t.

I returned from my drive and parked the car with a hard jerk, didn’t even bother locking it. I was fuming–heart pounding, jaw clenched, barely keeping myself from shifting. I didn’t lose my cool

easily, but this? This was it.

I stormed into the right wing like a storm waiting to break. The butler, Jason, looked up, startled.

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“Where’s Darian?” I snapped

He blinked, unsure whether to answer

Martha emerged from the music room with my father. I didn’t greet them. Didn’t pause.

“Where is Danian” 1 said again, louder

And then he appeared–Darian, with that same smug, polished look he always wore like a shield. I

didn’t think I didn’t speak. I just moved.

I slammed into him, fists flying, years of resentment exploding in seconds. He didn’t fight back.

That almost made it worse. I landed blow after blow until my father physically pulled me off.

“Don’t you ever touch my wife again!” I shouted, my voice shaking with fury. “Stay away from Mara, Darian You had your chance and you blew it. You can’t keep coming for things that belong to me!”

I meant it. That’s all this was. He didn’t want her because he loved her. He wanted her because /

tud het

“Control yourself, Lucian,” my father barked.

I forced myself to breathe.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Darian made out with Mara,” I said, still panting. “In the library.”

“At your wing?” Martha asked quickly. Her tone was sharp, loaded. She was already trying to

deflect the blame.

“Darian” my father said, turning to him. “Did you go to the left wing after I explicitly told you not to?”

Darian didn’t say a word. He looked straight ahead, lips pressed in a tight line. He was protecting Mara. Trying to keep her out of it.

“Answer mer my father roared.

Darian nodded once.

“You’re despicable,” my father snapped, stepping forward. The disgust in his voice was unmistakable.

Martha looked like she was about to combust. “The workers said she was in our library!” she tried to argue, eyes locked on me,

Darian shook his head quickly. “That’s a lie. I went to the left wing.”

He didn’t even flinch.

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My father walked up and punched him. Hard. Darian staggered back, stunned.

“Don’t you ever lay a hand on your brother’s wife again,” he growled.

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Martha lost it. “Tell your slut wife to stay away from my son!” she screamed, voice cracking, almost

hysterical.

My father turned on her. “Shut your mouth, Martha!” he barked. “This is your fault too.”

Darian dropped to his knees.

“Father, please,” he begged. “Ask Lucian to annul the marriage. He doesn’t love her–he doesn’t wan

ther. He hasn’t even touched her. He leaves at night to go to someone else. Please. Just let me be

with her. I can make it right. I love her.”

My father stared at him like he was a stranger.

“And what about Tiffany? And the baby?”

Darian’s face hardened. “That baby isn’t mine.”

Of course.

The same denial. The same game.

I looked at him and didn’t see a man in love–I saw a man drowning in entitlement, used to taking

what wasn’t his and blaming the mess on everyone else.

“So you say all the time,” my father said coldly. “Unfortunately, this one… she’s keeping.”

His tone was final.

“Stay away from Mara,” he added, staring down at Darian. “I paid a lot of money to marry her to

your brother. Leave well enough alone.”

Darian’s face crumpled slightly, but my father didn’t soften. He never did.

“If you’re hurt, take it up with your mother. She’s the one who started all of this–because she decided Mara wasn’t rich enough for you.”

And with that, he turned to me.

“Go cool off, Lucian.”

I didn’t argue.

I walked out, still burning with rage, but beneath it… shame.

I’d lost control. In front of my father, the staff, and Martha, no less. That wasn’t me. I’d never

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snapped like that before, but something about Darian’s face–his entitlement, his pleading–it

pushed a switch in me I didn’t know I had.

And now?

Now I didn’t know what to do.

I wanted to believe Mara wouldn’t go back to him. But I wasn’t blind. I saw the way she looked at

him–the history there. And it wasn’t hard to imagine them slipping into something behind closed doors, pretending it didn’t matter. Pretending I didn’t matter.

I told her she could do what she wanted. And maybe that was the biggest mistake of all.

I wasn’t angry at her. Not really.

I was angry at myself–for the things I said to her that day in her father’s porch. When my and I came to see her, and I made her feel small. Replaceable. Like I didn’t care.

But I did. I cared more than I was willing to admit.

If I could go back and rewrite it all, I would.

But there’s no reset button.

Just silence.

father

I didn’t return to the room until late that night. The soft glow of Mara’s lamp spilling into the shared space. I didn’t go to her. I didn’t check if she was awake.

I glanced in and saw her sleeping.

That was enough.

I showered in silence, towelled off, and went to bed without another word.

If she wanted to come to me, she would.

But I wasn’t going to beg or show emotions.

Not anymore.

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