Lior stared at him for a long moment, her green eyes flashing with anger. Instead of answering, she grabbed a pillow and hurled it at his head.
He caught it easily, his expression unchanged.
"Get out" Her voice was hoarse, raw from the night before.
She turned away from him, pulling the covers over her head like a child hiding from the world. The gesture should have been childish, but given what had transpired between them, it felt more like self-preservation.
Lucien set the pillow aside and stood." Get enough rest."
The door closed softly behind him, leaving Lior alone in the room.
Downstairs, Lucien settled into his study again instead of heading to the office as he normally would. Marcus appeared with files and his laptop, efficiently setting up a mobile office.
"Sir, the morning meetings?"
"Reschedule. I'll work from here today."
Marcus didn't ask why. He'd worked for Lucien long enough to know when not to question decisions.
Throughout the morning, Lucien conducted phone meetings and reviewed contracts, but his attention kept drifting to the security monitor that showed his bedroom. A remnant from the corporate espionage attempt two years ago, when a rival company had tried to plant someone in his household. He'd meant to have it removed after the threat was neutralized, but somehow never had.
Now he watched Lior curl deeper into his sheets, her small form barely visible beneath the covers. She hadn't moved in over an hour.
"Mrs. Chen," he called on the intercom.
"Yes, sir?"
"Take something up to Mrs. Pembroke. Something light."
"Of course, sir."
An hour later, the tray returned untouched. Looked like his little wife was throwing a tantrum.
By afternoon, Lucien found himself checking the monitor more frequently. Lior had finally emerged from under the covers but was staring out the window, still wearing his shirt,she looked small.
Evening came, and still Lior hadn't left his bedroom. Mrs. Chen brought dinner – soup, bread, things that would be easy on her stomach. This time, Lior managed a few bites before pushing it away.
Her phone had been buzzing intermittently with messages from Maya, but she couldn't bring herself to respond. Around nine PM, she heard Lucien's voice in the hallway, speaking quietly with Mrs. Chen.
"How much did she eat?"
"Not enough, sir. Maybe a third of the soup."
"And water?"
"She's been drinking the tea, at least."
"Good. Run another bath for her."
"Yes, sir. Will you be staying home again tomorrow?"
Lior closed her eyes. He was rearranging his entire schedule around her recovery. Not because he cared – Lucien Pembroke didn't do emotional attachment – but because she was his now, and he took care of what belonged to him.
The thought should have angered her. Instead, it made her feel strangely secure in a way she didn't want to examine too closely.
Later, after the house had gone quiet, she finally ventured to the bathroom. True to his word,the bath was drrawn. He'd thought of everything.
As she sank into the warm water, Lior tried to piece together what came next. The contract still had seventeen months to run. But everything had changed. She was no longer playing the role of his wife – she was his wife, in the most primal sense of the word.
When she emerged from the bathroom wrapped in one of his robes, she found him sitting in the chair by the window, still dressed despite the late hour.
They looked at each other across the room, the air thick with unspoken things. Finally, Lior moved to the bed, sliding under the covers that had been changed.
Lucien remained in the chair, watching over her like a sentinel. Protecting what was his, even from her own stubborn refusal to accept care.
As sleep finally claimed her, Lior's last conscious thought was that tomorrow would bring new challenges, new expectations, new ways to navigate this relationship that had moved far beyond the boundaries of any contract.
But tonight, for the first time since arriving at Sterling Heights, she felt safe.
Even if she wasn't ready to admit why.
-----
The Blackwell penthouse overlooked Central Park, but Victoria saw none of the autumn beauty as she paced across imported Italian marble. Her manicured nails, usually perfect, were bitten down to the quick. Empty champagne bottles littered the coffee table, evidence of her sleepless night.
Her phone buzzed constantly with calls she couldn't bring herself to answer. Social invitations being rescinded. Board positions quietly withdrawn. Charity committee memberships revoked without explanation.
Marcus Sterling worked efficiently.
"Fucking bastards," she hissed, hurling her phone across the room. It shattered against the wall, joining the remnants of a crystal vase she'd destroyed earlier.
How had everything gone so wrong? The plan had been perfect. Drug the little nobody, seduce Lucien while his wife was incapacitated, capture it all on camera. A scandal that would destroy their marriage and position Victoria as the woman who'd tried to save him from his gold-digging wife.
Instead, they'd disappeared together. Her photographer had waited for hours at the Plaza while Victoria smiled and made excuses to increasingly suspicious party guests.
The next morning brought the first wave of social destruction. Her invitation to the Whitmore charity luncheon – canceled. Her membership at the Metropolitan Club – under review. Her position on the hospital board – temporarily suspended pending investigation into unspecified allegations.
Marcus had been thorough.
Victoria's phone – her backup device – rang. Elizabeth Pembroke's name appeared on the screen.
"This is your fault," Elizabeth's voice was ice when Victoria answered. "Your amateur dramatics have destroyed everything."
"My fault? You're the one who suggested...."
"I suggested subtlety. Patience. Not drugging champagne like some common criminal."
Victoria's laugh was bitter. "Common criminal? Your precious son has forbidden you from his house. How's that for subtlety?"
The silence on the other end stretched until Victoria wondered if Elizabeth had hung up.
"This isn't over," Elizabeth said finally. "Lucien may think he's won, but he doesn't know what I'm capable of."
"We failed, Elizabeth. Accept it."
"You failed. I'm just getting started."
The line went dead.
Victoria stared at the phone, a chill running down her spine. She'd known Elizabeth Pembroke for twenty years, had seen her destroy business rivals and social enemies with surgical precision. But she'd never been on the receiving end of that cold fury.
Maybe it was time to cut her losses and disappear to the Hamptons house until this all blew over.
At Sterling Heights, Mrs. Chen moved through her duties with practiced efficiency, but her mind was on the young woman upstairs. In thirty years of domestic service, she'd seen powerful men with their conquests, their mistresses, their temporary amusements.
This was different.
Mr. Pembroke had never brought a woman to Sterling Heights. Never rearranged his schedule for anyone. Never personally ensured someone's comfort with such attention to detail.
She knocked softly on the bedroom door before entering with the afternoon tea service.
Mrs. Pembroke was curled in the window seat, still wearing her husband's shirt though her clothes had been arranged. She was staring out at the gardens. She looked fragile, but there was steel beneath the vulnerability. Mrs. Chen had seen it in the way she'd handled herself at dinner with the elder Mrs. Pembroke.
Lior's cheeks flushed, but she nodded. "Thank you."
"Mr. Pembroke wanted me to ask if you need anything else. Clothes, books, anything to make you more comfortable."
"I'm fine."
Mrs. Chen had raised three daughters. She recognized stubborn pride when she saw it.
"He's a good man," she said carefully. "Demanding, yes. Controlling, certainly. But he protects what matters to him."
Mrs. Chen left the tea and retreated, but not before noticing how Mrs. Pembroke's hand unconsciously touched her throat, where faint marks were still visible beneath the collar of her husband's shirt.
----
In Manhattan, Elizabeth Pembroke sat in her lawyer's office, her spine rigid with fury. Being banned from Sterling Heights was a humiliation she wouldn't tolerate. Lucien had drawn a line in the sand, choosing his nobody wife over his own mother.
He would learn the cost of that decision.
"The trust fund," she said crisply to her attorney. "I want to know exactly what control I still have over Lucien's inheritance."
Harrison Webb had been handling Pembroke family legal matters for twenty years. He recognized the tone that meant someone was about to be destroyed.
"Elizabeth, I have to advise against any action that might be seen as retaliatory..."
"I'm not asking for advice, Harrison. I'm asking for information."
He pulled out the relevant files, adjusting his glasses as he read. "The majority of Lucien's assets are self-made, outside of family control. However, there's still the matter of the Pembroke Foundation endowment. As chairman of the board, you have significant influence over its charitable contributions."
"Including the medical research grants."
"Yes, but Elizabeth..."
"What about the Elena Atheria matter?"
Harrison's expression grew cautious. "What about it?"
"The anonymous donation that paid for her treatment. I want to know exactly where that money came from."
"I don't see how that's relevant.."
"Because if it came from Pembroke Foundation funds without proper board approval, that's a violation of our charter. Grounds for investigation."
Understanding dawned in Harrison's eyes. "You want to go after the mother's medical treatment?"
"I want to remind Lucien that his actions have consequences. If he wants to play house with some nobody, he can do it without family money."
"Elizabeth, this could backfire spectacularly"
"Let me worry about that."
As she left the law office, Elizabeth's mind was already working through the implications. Going after Elena Atheria's medical treatment was nuclear option – it would expose Lucien's marriage as a financial transaction while putting his wife's mother at risk.
But Lucien had made his choice. Now he would live with the consequences.
----
In his study at Sterling Heights, Lucien's phone rang with the call he'd been expecting.
"Robert," he said, settling back in his chair.
"Lucien. I hope I'm not interrupting."
"Not at all. How can I help you?"
"Kenji and I were hoping to take you up on your offer of dinner at Sterling Heights. We'd like to meet your wife properly, in a more relaxed setting."
Lucien's eyes went to the security monitor showing the kitchen, where Lior was finally drinking the tea Mrs. Chen had brought. She looked, composed nothing like the woman from the day before. She was laughing at something the workers said. She quickly adjusted than he expected.
"Of course," he said smoothly. "When would be convenient?"
"Tomorrow evening, if possible. We know it's short notice..."
"Tomorrow is perfect. Seven o'clock?"
"Excellent. We're looking forward to it."
After ending the call, Lucien sat back in his chair. Twenty-four hours to transform coax his wife and reconcile with her. He didn't worry about her not knowing how to handle them,that she proved she was calm and easily fit in the high society. It was one of the things he admired about her.
His phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number: "Enjoy your dinner."
Victoria hadn't learned her lesson. But she was the least of his problems now.
He descended the stairs to find Lior perched on a stool at the kitchen island, sharing what looked like homemade cookies with the afternoon staff. She'd changed into jeans and a sweater, her hair pulled back in a messy bun. The transformation from yesterday's fragile figure to this version was... remarkable.
"Mrs. Chen makes the best chocolate chip cookies in the state," she was saying to James, the groundskeeper, who was nodding enthusiastically while reaching for his third. "I tried to get the recipe but she says it's a family secret."
"Forty years I've been asking," laughed Maria, one of the housekeepers. "She won't even tell me what kind of vanilla she uses."
Mrs. Chen smiled secretively while refilling Lior's tea. "Some things must remain mysterious."
Lior noticed Lucien first, her laughter fading slightly but not disappearing entirely. "We're having an impromptu staff meeting," she said, gesturing to the cookie situation. "Apparently I've been missing out on the best part of living here."
The staff began to disperse with good-natured efficiency, taking their cookies and returning to their duties. Mrs. Chen lingered long enough to give Lucien a meaningful look before following the others out.
"Feeling better?" he asked, noting the color in her cheeks.
"Much." She slid off the stool, brushing crumbs from her hands.