Isabella Summer is a bright, bookish seventeen-year-old, counting down the days until she graduates and leaves for her dream college in another state. She dreams of becoming an author, living a quiet, peaceful life, and finding the kind of fairytale...
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The sound of the alarm was a knife in the quiet. I stiffened, but Lucas moved with eerie calm, crossing to the security panel with deliberate steps. His fingers danced over the screen, and then the cameras blinked to life.
The monitor showed the gates. A sleek black car idled there, headlights cutting across the drive. Even from the grainy feed, I knew who it was.
Xavier.
My stomach dropped.
The screen lit up in front of me, grainy black-and-white footage filling the glass. Outside the gates, Xavier was a storm incarnate — pacing, fists slamming against steel, his mouth twisting around my name like a curse. Even without sound, I could feel the heat of his rage bleeding through the monitor.
Lucas's voice slid in beside me, soft, almost amused. "Look at him. He can't stand it. He thought he'd broken you enough to keep you forever. Now he's breaking himself instead."
Xavier threw his head back, shouting at the cameras. Lucas tapped the screen like he was pointing out art in a gallery. "That's what it looks like when a man loses. And yet—" his eyes flicked to me, lingering far too long, "—I think I like you best when you're the reason."
My skin prickled. I had thought Xavier's rage was the worst thing I could face. But sitting there, with Lucas studying me like I was already his, I wasn't sure which of them terrified me more.
I pushed to my feet, my voice tight. "You said this place was safe."
"Safe for me," Lucas corrected. "You're just collateral."
I stared at him, blood roaring in my ears. "Then why bring me here?"
He turned to me, and for the first time since I'd met him, his expression wasn't playful. It was sharp, intent, hungry. "Because you make him reckless. And I like watching him sweat."
The gates groaned open on the feed. The car rolled through. Lucas didn't stop it. He was letting him in.