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Ignoring my question, he lifted his glass in my direction as if giving me a toast. “At least you can say you spent your last week wasted on scotch that was older than our parents and worth more than most people’s mortgages for three months.”
“Get out. I lived it. No need for the recap.”
Lucian downed his drink and walked past me into my kitchen as if he owned my fucking penthouse. He opened my refrigerator, grabbed a water bottle, and tossed it to me.
“Drink it. Assholes who never indulge don’t know how to handle the aftermath. I’ll have a recovery formula here in twenty minutes.” Lucian pulled out his phone, texted, and smirked in my direction.
“You’re loving this.”
“Why the fuck shouldn’t I? You deserve every second of the misery.”
“Let me repeat if you aren’t here to kill me, get the fuck out. I don’t want company. What I want is solitude. As in, goodbye. I want to be alone.”
“Too fucking bad, Pierce. We’re going to have a chat. Sit your ass down.”
“I’m not one of your underlings, Morelli. You can’t order me to do anything. Leave your magic formula with the reception desk downstairs and get lost.”
“That’s right, rules don’t apply to you.” Lucian clenched his hands. “You hurt Sophia.”
“I did.” I ran a frustrated hand through my hair. “I’ll admit it. I’m the epitome of what you surmised. I’m dangerous and the wrong person for her. I’m everything the rumors about me say. I own it. I’m the worst thing that could have ever happened to her.”
“Oh, cut the dramatic martyr crap.”
“It’s the truth. I pushed Sophia. I hurt her.”
“You did it on purpose. I heard the audio.”
“You’re a sick fuck if you listened to your sister having sex.”
“That wasn’t sex, jackass. You staged the ending. Not once did you want it to go the way it did. You escalated it for a purpose, even if you hated every single aspect of it.”
“I don’t need your analysis.”
The pounding intensified, making me wish I never unlocked the elevator.
“You have it. What was the point of the whole thing?”
I might as well let him hear the truth. I was too exhausted to deny it anyway.
I slid onto a barstool and admitted, “To prove everything said about me was true. I’m not right for her. I’m not good for her. She deserves better. I’m too intense. You said it yourself. I push my subs to places where they forget to protect themselves. I enjoy going to that edge, and I make it addictive.”
“That’s bullshit.” Lucian set his palms on the island across from me and leaned in with irritation etched on his face. “Do you believe I’m any different? All of my relationships have bordered on that edge you talk about. I don’t know any other way. Hell, I don’t want any other way. I can honestly say my demands, the way I am, made Elaine stronger.”
“Maybe it’s safer with you. Your way isn’t getting your women hurt. I’m dangerous to mine. Look at my damn track record. It speaks for itself. It’s better not to play anymore.”
He shot me a skeptical glare. “Ever? I don’t buy it.”
Without Sophia, I never wanted to enter any club again, but I kept those thoughts to myself.
“Ever.”
“Are you telling me that you never plan to f—” Lucian stopped speaking when the elevator dinged, indicating someone arrived.
Who the fuck could that be?
A second after the cab doors opened, Eva Morelli stepped out. The heavily pregnant woman carried an extra-large designer tote filled to capacity in one hand and her purse in the other.
I narrowed my eyes at Lucian. “Is this a damn Morelli invasion?”
