Liraaaa… you don't belong in this family. You should have died!"
A man's voice, venomous and cruel, echoed in the dark.
His silhouette loomed, black and menacing.
"You killed her. You're a poison in this family."
"You should have died!"
"You're the one who should be dead!"
He shouted with rising fury, lashing out with a belt.
The sharp crack of leather against skin echoed through the house.
The stench of alcohol and cigarette smoke clung to the air like poison.
The house was a mess.
I was a mess.
I wanted to run.
To hide.
To die.
"It's not my fault… I didn't kill her…"
I couldn't breathe.
I was suffocating.
"Aaaah!"
I jolted awake.
Darkness still clung to the world outside.
It wasn't real.
Just a dream.
I clutched the sheets, gasping for air like I was drowning. My chest heaved painfully.
The same nightmare.
The same terror.
It never leaves me.
Not a single night passes without it hunting me down.
Forcing me to relive the life I've buried.
Those dark days—
The hunger.
The bruises.
The tears I cried into my pillow while my father's rage bruised not only my body, but my soul.
I try not to remember.
But the night never lets me forget.
I don't want to sleep anymore.
Each night bleeds into the next, heavier than the last. Maybe I should ask for stronger sleeping pills—something potent enough to drown out everything.
I stepped out of my room.
Moonlight spilled through the tall windows, washing the hall in a silvery hush. The grand piano stood under its glow like a ghost—quiet, waiting.
It almost felt like it was calling me.
"It's been a while," I whispered, barely breathing.
I sat down. My fingers hovered, then sank onto the cold keys. A soft melody spilled out—fragile and aching.
And just like that, he returned.
The way his long, slender hands guided mine.
The warmth of his breath against my ear.
"You did well," he'd said. "It's perfect."
A lump rose in my throat.
I wanted to see him again.
God, I wanted to.
But I never dared to.
I had already buried that part of me—him, the girl I used to be, the softness I can't afford.
I chose this life.
And to have it, I killed every piece that made me human.
I stopped playing.
No. No. No.
You don't get to exist.
Not in this world. Not anymore.
Distractions are death.
Weakness is death.
And I must be perfect to survive.
As dawn broke, I sorted through my clothes—elegant, professional, captivating.
Elira Callista—the perfect woman in every man's eyes, a bitch in every woman's mind.
I arrived at the Arcelli Empire headquarters. A hundred employees greeted me—some smiles fake, others genuine, some perverted, and a few in awe.
The usual.
"Good morning, Director," Troye greeted.
"Good morning, Mr. Troye. Any updates?"
"Our project with KIA International is progressing. There are minor changes required by their president, but otherwise, everything's smooth. The chairman is pleased."
"He should be," I replied coldly.
"Oh—and the chairman asked for you. He and Madame Isabelle want to discuss something."
"Another party?" I asked dryly.
Troye just shrugged and walked away.
I dropped my bag in my office and made my way to the chairman's room.
Too early for this much urgency—it must be serious.
As I stepped inside, I was greeted by an oddly cheerful atmosphere. The chairman and his wife looked relaxed, almost… glowing.
Happy families.
It made my stomach churn with envy.
Then I felt a stare—intense and unmistakable. I turned and saw him.
Lucien Arcelli.
"Good morning, Lira. Did you sleep well last night?" he asked, his voice teasing, his eyes holding mine.
My face burned as last night's memory flashed through my mind—me, asleep in his arms.
But
There was something about the way he said it—like he knew exactly when I'd fallen asleep. Like he'd been watching longer than I thought.
Shameless.
I composed myself quickly.
"I slept very well, Lucien. Thank you for taking me home."
The chairman and Madame Isabelle exchanged a look.
"We're glad you're speaking casually now," she said with a soft smile.
Then the chairman spoke.
"Lira, we called you here to tell you something important. We want you to take the lead on our next major project—in Australia."
"Australia?" I repeated.
"Yes. This will be the start of the Arcelli Empire's expansion into Europe. You and Lucien will spearhead this. I trust you more than anyone, and I know you'll be a great asset to him."
Me. And Lucien.
It's a massive opportunity. A global project—exactly the kind of thing I've dreamed of.
But working with Lucien?
I have to think.
_____
A heavy sigh escaped me.
I couldn't decide. I didn't want this to slip through my fingers—this project was everything I'd worked for. Power. Recognition. A seat at the global table.
But why did it feel like I was standing at the edge of a cliff?
Like saying yes would mean losing more than I could afford.
I stared out the office lounge window, city lights blurred through the glass. In the reflection, I saw Lucien standing behind me.
"Lucien," I said quietly. "Did you agree to this?"
He stepped closer, his presence looming like a shadow I couldn't shake.
"Yeah," he said, voice smooth. "There's nothing to argue about. This project is massive. It'll give the company—us—more power."
His eyes swept over me, slow and deliberate. I felt it like heat on my skin.
"What's bothering you?" he asked. "What's on your mind?"
I didn't answer.
He waited.
Then, softer—too soft—he added, "What's making you hesitate?
Are you afraid of me?"
I turned away. And then I felt it—his fingers brushing the back of my neck, warm and electric. A quiet invasion.
"Lucien," I said, voice sharp. "Keep your hands to yourself."
"My apologies," he murmured, not sounding sorry at all. "Your skin… it looked too delicate not to touch."
I shook it off. Took a step forward.
Then I turned on my heel.
"I'm not hesitating," I said, meeting his gaze head-on. "And I'm not afraid of you."
Lucien stared after her as she walked away, a flicker of lust dancing in his eyes.
He craved her—without understanding how or why.
But Lucien always got what he wanted. And right now, he wanted her.
—
Outside, in the underground parking lot, he leaned against the cold concrete wall, lighting a cigarette. He took a slow drag, but his focus wavered.
Then she appeared.
Lira stepped into view—wearing a pink suit tailored perfectly to her frame, the white blouse beneath softening her usual steel. The fabric clung in all the right places, every curve subtly demanding attention.
Lucien's jaw tightened. He tossed the cigarette to the ground.
Lira was shocked when she spotted him. His figure, half-shadowed in the dim light, looked almost predatory.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice wary.
"Just getting some fresh air," he said, too casually.
Lira let out a short, incredulous laugh. "Fresh air? We're underground, Lucien."
He didn't respond.
She glanced at him, expecting a comeback—but instead, he was just looking at her. Really looking.
"You look beautiful when you smile," he said. "You should laugh more."
Lira froze. Her chest tightened.
She hated how easily he could slip beneath her skin. How every moment spent near him chipped away at the walls she had built so carefully.
And worst of all—part of her didn't want to stop it.
She got into her car without sparing him a glance.
No goodbye. No second look.
The engine roared to life, and she drove off like she was running from something—
Or someone.
As if her life depended on it.
Lucien stood frozen in the dim light of the parking lot, brows furrowed in thought. Confusion twisted into fixation.
He needed to know more.
If he wanted her—truly wanted her—he needed answers. Every piece. Every hidden part.
He pulled out his phone and dialed.
"Kenneth. I need you to look into someone for me. Thoroughly. Carefully. I want every detail. Leave nothing out."
"Who's the target?"
"Elira Callista."
A pause. Then a low chuckle. "Man, I suggest you don't."
"Why not?"
"Everyone in this damn place has tried to dig into her. But there's nothing. Aside from her education and public records, her past is a blank slate. It's like someone erased her… or she buried it herself."
Lucien's voice sharpened, laced with irritation. "I don't take no for an answer, Kenneth."
Another pause. Then a resigned sigh. "If it's you, I'll try. Just… be careful. That woman's got pride thicker than steel. You push too hard, she'll bite."
Lucien smirked. "She's more like a cat in my eyes."