Page 15 of Until She's Mine
“You still have the sketch, don’t you?” Sophie asks knowingly.
Heat creeps up my neck. “That’s not—”
“Oh my God, you do.” She shakes her head. “You need to get rid of it. Burn it. Throw it in the Hudson. Something.”
“I will.” My eyes flicker over her shoulder, and my heart skips a beat. Across the street, a black town car sits at the curb, its tinted windows hiding whoever might be inside. My breath catches, and I tell myself I’m being paranoid.
Not every black car in Manhattan belongs to Lucian.
“Evelyn?” Sophie’s voice pulls me back. “Listen, I’m not judging you. I mean, I am judging you a little bit. But mostly I’m worried. The Blackwoods aren’t exactly known for their healthy family dynamics.”
I force my gaze back to her, but the sensation of being watched prickles along my spine.
I should feel fear. I should feel threatened. Instead, a traitorous heat pools low in my belly.
Because part of me knows.
Knows the tingle between my shoulder blades isn’t paranoia. Knows the ‘coincidental’ museum encounters aren’t accidents. Knows that when I woke at 3 a.m. last Tuesday, a certain someone in my apartment wasn’t just a dream.
“You’re right,” I say. “I’ll get rid of it tonight.”
Sophie studies me, her expression softening. “Look, I get it. Tobias is... Tobias. He’s charming when he wants to be, but we both know he’s not exactly Prince Charming. And if Lucian is half as intense in person as he seems on paper...” She trails off, shaking her head. “Just be careful, okay? Men like that don’t just draw pretty pictures and pine from afar. They take what they want.”
After that, the conversation shifts to lighter topics—her latest art exhibit, her newest part-time job at the bookshop, and the new restaurant she’s been dying to try—but my attention keeps drifting to that black car, still idling across the street. The windows remain impenetrable, offering no hint of who might be watching.
When we finally part ways, Sophie gives me a tight hug and a stern look. “Promise me you won’t let this ruin what you have with Tobias without thinking it through.”
“I promise.”
The moment Sophie’s back is turned, my eyes flicker toward the street. The tinted window of the car lowers just enough.
Lucian sits in shadow, his profile carved from marble. Even from this distance, his gaze is like a physical touch. It skims my throat, traces my waist, burning through my clothes.
Our eyes lock.
Time stutters.
The world around me dissolves into a blur of noise and movement, but I am frozen, caught in the gravity of his stare. My breath hitches, and I can almost hear the low timbre of his voice in my ear, though he hasn’t spoken a word. He doesn’t need to. That look says everything—possession, promise, a challenge I’m not sure I’m strong enough to resist.
The sunlight catches the sharp angles of his face as he tilts his head slightly, a predator studying its prey. My pulse quickens, and a flush of heat rises to my cheeks despite the chill in the air. The car idles, waiting, daring me to come closer.
But I don’t move. Can’t move.
A cab honks somewhere down the block, and I blink, tearing my gaze away from him, and force myself to walk in the opposite direction.
When I finally risk a glance over my shoulder, I see the town car pulling away from the curb, trailing after me.
Lucian isn’t following me; he could be invisible if he wanted to be.
No, this is deliberate. He wants me to choose him, to admit that I want him, too, but he’s making sure I’m aware of his presence in the meantime. He won’t let me forget about him, not even for a second.
The most unsettling part is that I don’t want him to.
My apartment building looms ahead, a pre-war brownstone that Tobias calls ‘quaint’ in that dismissive way of his. My hands shake as I fumble for my keys in the elevator.
Inside my apartment, I lean against the closed door, my heart racing. The space feels different now—heavier somehow, as if Lucian’s presence has seeped through the walls. I move through the rooms, checking windows, testing locks, and telling myself I’m being ridiculous.
But when I reach my bed, I go rigid.
