Page 36 of Property of Lucian

Chapter 28

Haylee

I knew how to wound men. I knew how to hurt them. But in this case, I didn’t want to hurt Lucian. No, I wanted him to suffer by his remark, and I would make sure he did,afterI dealt with his ex-wife.

Just as I turned to face her and give her a piece of my mind, a direct look from Lucian made me pause. I wasn’t allowed to do anything. Was he fucking kidding me? He was telling me with his eyes that I was to keep my mouth shut.

He may be married to me, but part of his heart was still hers. I watched the smug expression spread across her face.

I didn’t say a word. I just walked from the patio and headed back inside. I needed a drink, something fucking strong.

I thought of all the ways I could get him back. Embarrassment would do the trick. But then again, I didn’t want to be punished. Instead, I decided the best course of action was to do nothing and let my nonreaction speak for itself.

I weaved to the bar and placed my order.

LUCIAN

“What do you want, Angeline?” I snapped at her. Haylee and I needed to talk, and I didn’t have time for the bitch known as my ex-wife. “Ya here at my family gathering.”

“I see you brought your bitch of a woman.” She smugly crossed her arms. “You are starting to lead me on to believe you care about her.”

She had no idea how much I cared about Haylee, which was why I wanted to punch myself right now for being a dick. Putting up my hand, and I watched her smug expression drop. “Yeah, I do care for her. I married her and unlike you, she respected the traditions.”

“She did the black wedding?” she said slowly. “With you?”

“Yes, she did.” I couldn’t be prouder of Haylee for coming through, but the look on Angeline’s face told me she couldn’t believe I had found a woman crazy enough to do the black wedding with me.

No one really knew the full tradition behind it, but just the roofie was enough to scare most brides away—after all, it scared Angeline away. We had a traditional white wedding, which meant nothing. I told her that I wouldn’t consider her my real bride unless we did a black wedding.

In the end, she got the white wedding and she also got divorce papers. Haylee would never get divorce papers.

“Excuse me, I need to find my wife.” And with those words, I left her tearing up in the patio.

Scanning the crowd, I looked for Haylee. I spotted her speaking to my cousin and his best friend. Fucking toss pots if you ask me. But I was going to play nice, till I saw . . ..

“Is that your hand on my wife?” I gritted out, seeing his hand below the small of her back. He looked at me but didn’t say a word. “Asshole, ya gunna get hurt.”

He took his hand off my Haylee like she had burnt him.

“Excuse us, Haylee, it was lovely to meet you,” he muttered and took off as soon as he realised she was with me. He knew she was forbidden and out of his league.

“Alright, get it over with,” I muttered, ready for my slaughter of an argument with her. “Threaten me, curse . . . you know.” I looked at her to say something, but she remained still, her eyes on her glass. “Haylee?” She wouldn’t seriously ignore me, would she?

She looked up from the glass and for the first time ever, in the whole time of knowing her, I saw sadness in her eyes. What hurt more was knowing that I put that sadness there.

She wasn’t yelling at me like Angeline would have. She wasn’t picking a fight with me. I knew we had mutual respect for each other and I respected her criminal upbringing; however, I had disrespected her a moment ago. I expected her to slay words at me, even give me one of those dirty looks I knew she could do.

Instead, I got nothing . . .. Was I not even worth getting upset over?

Did my opinion mean nothing to her?

“Lucian, if you don’t mind, I’m going to head back to the hotel room. I’m not feeling well.” She placed her glass down on the serving tray near us, leaving me completely speechless. Nodding my head, she excused herself to the hosts and left.

I couldn’t help but think I had done too much damage to come back from. Had I fucked up that badly? How was I going to get her to come around?

I needed to do something to prove to her that I trusted her, but what? I had fucked up and knowing that caused me to swipe the drink off the nearest waiter. I had fucked up badly. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if she wasn’t at the hotel room when I got there.

I had crossed a line that was written between us. And if there was one thing I respected, it was rules. Yet, I fucking walked over her one rule.

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