CHAPTER 41: STRONG ENOUGH?

He strode toward her with measured steps.

"Hey! Lucas, don’t forget our three rules!"

His footsteps faltered. He picked up the glass of milk beside her and downed it in one gulp.

"Hey! That was mine!"

Too late to stop him.

"What are you, a water buffalo? Who drinks a whole glass in one breath?"

The words slipped out before Sophia realized—why did she sound so riled up? And why was she actually bickering with him? Her cheeks felt warm. Too warm.

Then, without warning, Lucas scooped her up into his arms.

"What are you doing? Put me down! Or I’ll scream for help!"

A slow, dangerous smile curved his lips. "Scream all you want. Even if you shout until your throat gives out, no one’s coming to save you."

Her bulky layers of clothes made her movements clumsy.

"I’m begging you, stop this. I’m scared."

The words had barely left her mouth before—"thud"—he dropped her unceremoniously onto the floor.

"Lucas! You—"

"Don’t forget where you are. Blackstone Manor. My home. If my wife doesn’t like the bed, then I suppose I’ll have to suffer and use it myself."

Sophia glared at him, fury blazing in her eyes.

"You just wait!" She scrambled back up, muttering under her breath.

"Dad and Mom left."

Sophia froze. "Left? But just now they—"

"They’re off traveling. Half the world, if I had to guess. Starting tomorrow, Aiden won’t be able to sit still. Stay sharp, or people will laugh at me for marrying a fool."

Her brows knitted together. "The way you spoke when you said you wanted to ’use’ me—pitiful, almost gentle—don’t tell me..."

Lucas’s gaze hardened, pinning her in place. "You guessed right. The children—they’re mine. Hilton blood. You think you can run? I’ll never let you."

With that, he turned and walked into the bathroom.

Sophia’s chest tightened. So it had all been part of his plan. He’d known about the six kids long ago—he was just luring her in, waiting to take them back!

She reached for the door handle, then let go. The air outside felt suffocatingly hot. She dragged herself under the air conditioner and sat, waiting, until Lucas emerged.

"I thought you’d run. Yet here you are."

She ignored him completely.

"Sophia," his voice was dangerously calm, "you wear my name now—Mrs. Hilton. Behave yourself, stop entertaining foolish ideas. When the time is right, I’ll let you leave."

"The children are mine."

"You won’t take a single one. But I can compensate you."

Sophia’s eyes turned dark. "No one threatens me."

"Good," he said smoothly. "Neither do I."

Lucas stretched out on the bed, long legs crossed casually. The air between them thickened into silence.

"Is the air conditioner broken?" he muttered suddenly.

On the floor beside Sophia sat a pile of discarded clothes—ten layers at least. Only two remained on her overheated body.

She was burning up.

"Sophia? What’s wrong?"

Lucas approached, frowning, and pressed a hand to her forehead. "You’re burning."

But Sophia caught his hand, pressing it to her flushed skin. "So cool... feels so good."

Her voice was dazed, her eyes hazy as she whispered deliriously, "Big ice cube..."

"Sophia? Stay with me!"

"You’re so cool, my big ice cube!"

Suddenly, she flung herself against him, clinging tight.

Lucas’s own face heated despite himself. Something was off. He prided himself on his control, his discipline.

But with her fevered body pressed against his, the heat crawling under his skin...

For the first time, his self-control wavered.

He released her abruptly and retreated into the bathroom, dousing himself with cold water.

But it didn’t help. Not at all.

Breathless sounds drifted from the bedroom, teasing his nerves.

Lucas shut off the shower and stepped out. His dark, fathomless eyes were even more intimidating now.

Sophia lay sprawled across the bed in a thin camisole, a strip of pale skin at her waist exposed—so delicate it looked like his hand could wrap around it entirely.

The last thread of his restraint snapped.

When his fingers brushed her fevered, cool skin again, Sophia let out a soft, satisfied murmur.

"Big ice cube..."

"You started this, Sophia," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "You’re the one who tempted me..."

As if hypnotized, his gaze locked on her flushed lips. He bent down and kissed her—deeply, urgently.

...

At the airport.

Nancy cast a cautious glance at her husband before sneaking his phone into her hands. She quickly typed out a message and sent it, erasing the evidence right after.

A smile curved at her lips. If all went as planned tonight, there was a chance she’d be holding fat little grandbabies soon.

Lucas, forgive your mother. I couldn’t give you a gift in time, so I’ll just help you two along.

...

Inside Blackstone Manor.

When Lucas’s phone lit up, he grabbed it—then tossed it aside, scowling.

Whatever it was, it ruined the moment.

...

Next door.

Six little ones sat cross-legged, their faces unusually serious.

"Big sis, big bro... what are Mommy and Daddy doing?"

"Based on years of experience," one answered solemnly, "they’re working on giving us a few more brothers and sisters."

Faye tilted her head. "But Mommy sounds like she’s in pain..."

Dustin patted her head. "Sweetie, you’re too young. You’ll understand when you’re older. For now, just go to sleep. Or the wicked witch with the long nose will come get you."

Faye’s eyes went wide—she hated witches. She scrambled into bed immediately.

"Alright, everyone out," another whispered.

The soundproofing in the house was excellent, yet not enough to block out the passion from next door.

...

The next morning, Lucas was the first to wake. Seeing the woman lying beside him left his mind blank for a moment.

Then his phone vibrated. He instinctively reached for it, only to realize it was still lying in the corner where he’d thrown it.

"Boss, it’s already ten. The nine-thirty meeting—you’re half an hour late."

Lucas’s brow furrowed. A meeting. Of course.

He glanced once more at the sleeping Sophia and answered curtly, "I’ll be there soon."

But before he could leave, another message popped up.

From his father: Lucas, was the medicine strong enough? Do you need more?

Lucas froze.

No way his dad had sent that.

It was his mother.

She’d shoved him straight into the fire pit.

He rushed into the bathroom, cleaned up quickly, and fled the house.

By the time he arrived at the office, he was a full hour late.

"Boss, maybe I... shouldn’t have called you?" Alex ventured carefully.

Lucas shot him a flat look. "Glad you figured that out." He quickened his pace, leaving Alex stunned. Don’t tell me I actually interrupted the boss and the missus last night...

Inside the conference room, Lucas entered with an expression so cold no one dared breathe too loudly.

"Let’s begin. Manager Taylor, go over your report."

He sat, outwardly composed, but his mind kept flashing through a hundred ways Sophia might look when she woke.

He had resisted—until he hadn’t. And once he gave in, there was no stopping.

Sophia was a temptress through and through.

With a casual flick, he pulled up his phone, screenshot the incriminating message his father had "sent," and forwarded it straight to Sophia.

Better she curse his mother than wave their "three rules" in his face again.

Unknowingly, a faint smile tugged at his lips.

Everyone in the room stiffened. A smiling Lucas was far more terrifying than an angry one.

Especially for Manager Taylor, whose words spilled out faster and faster, like his life depended on it.

...

Back home, Sophia stirred awake, her phone buzzing against the sheets...