Six Months Before the Accident…
The door to Lucian's apartment flew open with a bang, the sound echoing through the dimly lit space. Elara stormed in, her face pale as a ghost, her hands shaking like leaves in a storm. Her eyes were wide with panic, her long brown hair a mess from running through the rain-soaked streets.
Rumors had sunk their teeth into her, whispers of Lucian with another woman and now her heart was a battlefield, torn between love and doubt.
She stood in the middle of the room, fists clenched, her voice trembling with anger. "Tell me it's not true," she demanded, her words resounding through the silence. "Were you with her?"
Lucian spun around as he tossed his jacket onto the couch. "A meeting, Elara, that's all it was," he growled, low and rough. "You really think I'd toss us aside for some stranger?"
"Then why is half of Paris whispering about it?" she shouted, her voice trembling as tears welled up in her eyes. "I'm done hiding, Lucian! Done wondering if I'm just a fool for believing in you!"
"Elara, please stop, not today. You know I'm yours and no one's." he said softly, exhaustion from work evident in his voice.
"Then act like it!" she shouted, tears streaming down her face, her voice raw with fear and anger.
She took a shaky breath, her hands brushing nervously through her wet hair, her composure crumbling in a way she hadn't let him see in a long time. "And it's not just that," she continued, her voice dropping to a broken whisper.
"My family's forcing me to marry Adrian Beaumont—for their stupid business. I told them no, but they won't stop. That wretched stepmother of mine would do anything to get rid of me."
Lucian froze mid-step clenching his fists tightly, the veins in his hands standing out like cords.
"What?" he said, his voice low and dangerous, like a predator ready to strike.
"You heard me! They're making me marry Adrian," she said, her voice trembling.
He crossed the room in two strides, pulling her into his arms, his grip almost bruising. "I'll k*ll him before he touches you," he growled, his breath hot against her ear. "No one's taking you from me, no one."
"To hell with the rumors, to hell with them all—I'd burn this whole damn city to the ground for you, Elara."
She clung to him, nails digging into his back, her body trembling against his. "Then what do we do?" she whispered, her voice small and broken. "They're not gonna stop."
He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. "We fight," he said, his voice steady despite the storm inside him. "Together."
Elara nodded, "Together."
The air between them shifted, the anger melting into something softer, deeper. Lucian's hands slid to her waist, pulling her closer, and their lips met in a kiss that was both desperate and tender; a clash of fire and solace. The rain outside hammering against the window, but inside, the world faded away, leaving only the warmth of their embrace.
Five Months Before the Accident…
The hidden garden behind the old chapel was their refuge, a silent place out of a world that wanted them apart. Ivy covered the stone walls like a curtain, and the air was filled with the scent of roses mingled with the delicate fragrance of lilies growing wild in the corner.
No crowds, no whispers, with only one other soul present: Mathieu Rousseau, Lucian's trusted friend, who stood discreetly near the garden's entrance, keeping watch.
Mathieu, with his sharp gray eyes and quiet demeanor, had known about their secret for weeks. As Adrian Beaumont's childhood friend and right-hand man in business, he carried a heavy burden; loyalty to Adrian clashed with his growing respect for Lucian and Elara's fierce love.
He'd agreed to be their witness, knowing their wedding would shake the foundations of both their worlds, but he couldn't deny the fire between them. Tonight, he was here to ensure their moment stayed safe, a silent guardian to their rebellion.
Lucian stood beneath the oak at the middle of the garden, his eyes fixed on the path where Elara would appear. He'd come early, restless as ever, a small bundle of lilies, her favorites clutched in his hand, their white petals glowing softly in the fading light. A month ago, he'd sworn to burn cities for her; tonight, he'd ask her to light the match with him.
When she stepped into the view, the fading sunlight caught her long brown hair. Her eyes glimmered with the same fire he'd seen a month ago, when she'd stormed into his apartment, tears and fury in her wake. But now, there was something else, resolve, maybe, or a fragile hope.
"You're early," she said, her voice teasing but soft, like she was testing the air between them.
"Couldn't wait," he replied, stepping forward. He held out the lilies, their delicate scent filling the space between them. "Picked these on the way."
Elara's lips curved, a faint smile breaking through. She took the flowers, her fingers brushing his. "You're getting sentimental, Lucian. Should I be worried?"
He chuckled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Maybe. Or maybe I'm just done pretending we can keep running in circles."
Her smile faltered, and she looked down at the flowers, tracing a petal. "What's this about?"
Lucian took a breath, the weight in his chest pressing harder. "You told me last month they're pushing you toward Adrian. That your stepmother won't stop. I've been thinking about it, about us every damn day since."
Elara's gaze snapped up, sharp and guarded. "Lucian, we've talked about this. Fighting them is one thing, but—"
"Marry me," he cut in, his voice low and fierce, like a vow already made. "In secret, here, away from their eyes. Let's make it real, Elara—us, forever."
Her breath caught, eyes widening. "You're serious."
"Dead serious." He closed the distance, thumbs brushing her cheeks. "I meant what I said, I'd burn this world down for you. But I don't just want to fight for you. I want you mine, in every way that matters."
She pulled back, shaking her head, the flowers trembling in her grip. "Our families will kill us. And Adrian? My stepmother's got him tangled in her plans. If we do this—"
"To hell with Adrian," Lucian growled, his voice dropping dangerously.
"I'll bury him before he touches you. And our families? Let them try to tear us apart. They'll choke on the ashes."
Elara's eyes glistened, fear and longing in their depths. "You make it sound so easy," she whispered. "But it's not. We're playing with fire, Lucian."
"Then let it burn," he said, softer now, his forehead resting against hers. "I'd set it all ablaze to keep you with me. You're my fight, Margo—my everything. Tell me you don't feel the same."
She trembled, her walls cracking. "You know I do," she breathed, her voice breaking. "But I'm scared, scared we'll lose everything."
He tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. "We won't. Not if we're together. Marry me, and I'll prove it, every day, every damn second."
For a heartbeat, she was still, her eyes searching his.
Then, a fierce, shaky smile broke through her tears. "Yes," she said, the word a spark igniting between them. "Yes, you stubborn bastard—our way."
Lucian's grin was wild, triumphant. He crushed her to him, their lips meeting in a kiss that was all fire and promise—desperate, deep, and unbreakable. Mathieu turned away, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he gave them their moment, the garden bearing witness to a love that defied the world.
****
Their relationship and marriage had to stay hidden. The Duval and Moreau families were bitter rivals, a feud spanning decades over business territory and influence. Plus, Elara's stepmother had arranged her engagement to Adrian Beaumont, a strategic match to bolster the Moreau empire.
If their families found out, their love would be sabotaged; deals would collapse, and Elara's engagement would be fast-tracked. They hid it to protect their bond, buying time to break free.