Page 10 of Until She's Mine
His hand drops from my face. I take a step back, but it’s not enough to create any real distance.
“You’re afraid,” he observes. “But not of me.”
I shake my head, though I’m not sure if I’m denying his words or trying to clear the fog that’s settled over my mind. “This… this isn’t right.”
“And what is right, Evelyn? Pretending to be someone you’re not? Smiling when you want to scream? Staying with him because you’ve made a mistake?”
I close my eyes, trying to steady myself, but it’s no use. His presence is everywhere—the warmth of his body, the scent of his cologne. When I open my eyes again, his gaze is waiting for me, dark and unyielding.
“I need to go back inside,” I choke out.
Lucian’s expression doesn’t falter. “Go, then,” he says quietly.
I nod, though my whole being rebels against the idea of walking away from him. “Yes,” I whisper, more to myself than to him. I move toward the door, my legs unsteady.
“Evelyn.” His voice stops me in my tracks, and I turn to face him.
He moves closer, and for a moment I think he might reach for me again. But he stops just short of bridging the gap between us, knowing that even a small gesture would be too much for either of us to bear.
“You dropped something.” He presses a book into my hands. His thumb lingers on my wrist, right over the frantic flutter of my pulse.
Then he is gone, leaving me with the weight of secrets and a page peeking from the book—a sketch of my profile, drawn in achingly intimate strokes.
Dated three years ago.
Chapter 5
Lucian
3:27 a.m.
The numbers glow red on the study clock, a reminder of the hours I’ve spent staring at the paper, replaying every second on that terrace.
Sleep is for men without obsessions.
I stalk to the floor-to-ceiling windows, Manhattan glittering like a spilled jewel box below. My reflection stares back—a black silk robe hanging open, eyes burning with an intensity that even the night cannot dim, and fingers stained with ink and want.
Charcoal sketches of Evelyn are scattered across the desk behind me, each one capturing a fragment of her I’ve committed to memory: her laugh, her eyes, her hands cradling a paintbrush, the curve of her neck as she tilts her head in thought.
I’ve drawn her so many times that my hands move without conscious thought, tracing her features as if they’re etched into my very soul.
And yet, it’s never enough.
Three years.
Three years of stolen moments, meticulously archived in leather portfolios lining the north wall. Each is labeled with dates, locations, and even weather conditions. The Evelyn Collection grows more comprehensive than our firm’s client archives.
The sketch I gave her tonight was not the first I’ve drawn of her, but it was from the first night she noticed me—the night she stepped into the Blackwood estate for the first time, her eyes wide with a mix of awe and trepidation. She had been wearing a white silk dress, the kind that clung to her curves without trying too hard, and her hair had been pulled back into a loose knot that left tendrils framing her face. Tobias had introduced her as his girlfriend, and two months later, she was wearing his ring.
But that night, as she stood in the foyer, her gaze had flickered to me, and I saw it. The spark of recognition, the faintest tremor of something deeper. It was gone in an instant, buried beneath her polite smile and Tobias’s possessive arm around her waist. But I saw it. And I’ve been chasing it ever since.
The sketch is from that moment. Her profile, caught in the soft glow of the chandelier, her lips parted as if she were about to speak. I’d drawn it hours after she left, my hands moving furiously across the paper, trying to capture her essence before it faded from my memory.
The sketches are a poor substitute for the real thing, but they’re all I have.
For now.
I turn away from the window and find the legal dossier on my tablet. Tobias’s engagement contract is open. I’ve read ita hundred times, memorized every clause and loophole. The prenuptial agreement is airtight. Tobias may be careless, but our family’s lawyers are not. Despite that, a few standard clauses about infidelity and financial misconduct could dissolve the union within weeks. Of course, it may never come to that.
