Third Person POV
Lucien Vale peeled off his black leather gloves slowly.
One finger at a time.
The faint sound of leather stretching was the only thing that broke the heavy silence left behind.
He glanced down at Daisy's unmoving form on the cold floor.
Her face was pale. Lashes damp with tears.
Her body slack.
She had fainted.
Good.
Without hesitation, Lucien bent and lifted her into his arms.
She weighed almost nothing—like a burden already half-erased by fear.
Her head lolled slightly against his chest, but he didn't adjust his hold.
He didn't need to.
"Clean everything up," he ordered flatly.
His men moved instantly.
"Yes, Boss."
No questions. No hesitation.
One of them began wiping down surfaces. Another dragged equipment away. Others dealt with what remained—efficient, silent, methodical.
Nothing here would exist by morning.
Lucien strode out of the abandoned building with Daisy in his arms, his steps unhurried, precise.
The night air swallowed them whole.
The car door opened before he reached it.
He placed her inside carefully—but without tenderness.
"She's out cold," one of the aides reported.
Lucien slid into the car, his gaze fixed forward.
"Make sure she wakes up in the mansion," he said calmly.
"And remembers only enough to fear me."
The door shut.
The engine started.
Behind them, the building stood quiet once more.
As if nothing had ever happened.
An hour later,
a fleet of sleek black cars rolled to a stop in front of Lucien Vale's estate.
The mansion stood under the night sky, its marble façade glowing under cold silver lights — silent, elegant, and intimidating.
Lucien stepped out of the car, his expression unreadable, a dark silhouette of power.
In his arms, he carried Daisy, unconscious and fragile, her body limp against his chest.
"Good evening, Mr. Vale,"
the house butler and two maids greeted in unison, bowing their heads the moment the massive doors swung open.
Lucien didn't return the greeting.
His cold voice echoed through the grand hall instead.
"Prepare a hot bath. Now."
His tone left no room for questions — only obedience.
Without breaking stride, he climbed the marble staircase, his steps measured, quiet, commanding.
Daisy's hair brushed lightly against his arm as he carried her past the glimmering chandelier, her faint breaths the only sign of life.
The maids hurried off down the corridor.
Lucien's trusted aide, the tall man with the black shades, closed the doors behind them — sealing off the night and everything that came with it.
Lucien pushed open the bathroom door with his shoulder.
Warm steam rolled out immediately, fogging the air, carrying the faint scent of lavender and heated marble.
The lights were dimmed, casting a soft glow over the vast space — a cruel contrast to the violence that still lingered on his hands.
He stepped inside and gently laid Daisy onto the padded bench beside the tub.
Her skin was pale.
Her lashes rested against her cheeks.
Unconscious. Vulnerable.
For a brief second — just one — Lucien stood there, watching her chest rise and fall.
Then the door behind him opened.
Elizabeth entered quietly.
She was older, composed, her gray-streaked hair neatly tied back.
A woman who had seen too much to be easily shaken — and had survived long enough to know when not to ask questions.
Lucien straightened.
"Undress her," he ordered calmly.
"Slowly. She's in shock."
Elizabeth nodded at once. "Yes, Mr. Vale."
Lucien turned toward the sink.
He reached out and peeled off his black leather gloves, one finger at a time.
They hit the marble counter with a dull sound.
Elizabeth noticed the faint streaks of dried blood on his wrist.
She said nothing.
"Check her throat," Lucien added, his back still to them.
"I used force. Make sure there's no internal damage."
Elizabeth moved closer to Daisy, fingers gentle, professional.
"She's breathing steadily," Elizabeth said after a moment.
"Just exhausted… and frightened."
Lucien's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
"Good."
He picked up a towel, ran water over his hands, and scrubbed them clean — hard, methodical, as though trying to erase something far deeper than blood.
When he turned back, Elizabeth was easing Daisy's dress off, covering her immediately with a thick towel.
Lucien didn't look.
"Stay with her," he said, already moving toward the door.
"Do not leave her alone tonight."
Elizabeth hesitated. "And if she wakes?"
Lucien paused at the doorway.
"If she asks questions," he said coldly,
"tell her she's safe."
Nothing more.
Then he added, quieter — almost too quiet to hear:
"Send for the doctor in the morning."
Elizabeth bowed her head.
"Of course, Mr. Vale."
Lucien stepped out of the bathroom.
The door closed behind him with a soft click.
Inside, steam continued to rise.
Warm water filled the tub.
And for the first time since Daisy had been taken,
She was untouched by cruelty.
…
…
…
The room was quiet. Too quiet.
Daisy slowly swung her legs over the edge of the bed, her bare feet sinking into a plush carpet that felt far too soft for a place owned by a devil.
Her head throbbed faintly.
Not pain exactly—just a dull heaviness, like her thoughts were wrapped in cotton.
She pressed her fingers to her temples and inhaled slowly.
The warmth from the bath still lingered in her muscles, calming her body against her will. That alone unsettled her.
Since when did anything connected to Lucien Vale come with comfort?
Her eyes drifted around again, slower this time.
The furniture was expensive but restrained. Dark wood.
Clean lines. No unnecessary decoration.
The room felt controlled… like its owner.
Her gaze slid back to the door.
Locked?
She held her breath, listening.
Nothing.
No footsteps.
No guards outside.
No sounds of screaming or metal or blood.
Just silence.
Her fingers clenched the blanket unconsciously.
The memories came anyway.
The abandoned building.
The smell of acid.
The screams.
Her stomach twisted.
She hugged her arms around herself, steadying her breathing.
"Get it together," she whispered.
Her eyes dropped to the pajamas again.
Soft. Clean. Warm.
Someone had taken care of her.
The thought sat uneasily in her chest.
She exhaled slowly.
Ma'am Elizabeth.
It had to be her.
That woman's gentle smile flashed vividly in her mind—calm hands, steady eyes.
A presence that didn't threaten, didn't demand fear.
"Yes… it was her," Daisy muttered, nodding faintly as if convincing herself.
Not him.
Never him.
Just then—
A soft knock sounded at the door.
Daisy froze.
Her heart slammed hard against her ribs.
"Miss Collette?" a familiar voice called gently.
Elizabeth.
Relief washed through her so suddenly it almost made her dizzy.
"Yes," Daisy replied, her voice hoarse.
The door opened slowly.
Elizabeth stepped in, carrying a small tray with tea and snacks.
Her expression softened the moment she saw Daisy sitting upright.
"You're awake," she said warmly.
"Thank goodness."
Elizabeth placed the tray on the bedside table and approached her carefully, as though afraid to startle her.
"How are you feeling, child?"
Daisy swallowed.
"My head feels… heavy."
Elizabeth nodded knowingly.
"Shock does that. You slept for nearly ten hours."
Ten hours.
Daisy's fingers tightened around the blanket.
"And… him?" she asked quietly, unable to stop herself.
Elizabeth paused for just a fraction of a second.
"Mr. Vale is not in the mansion," she said calmly.
"He left early this morning."
Daisy didn't realize she'd been holding her breath until she released it.
Elizabeth handed her a cup. "Drink. Slowly."
Daisy obeyed.
As the warmth spread through her chest, one thought echoed in her mind—clearer than anything else:
Whatever Lucien Vale was…
Whatever darkness ruled his world…
Last night, he had not let it touch her.
And that realization scared her more than the violence ever could.
"Right, I'll be back.
Give me a second," Elizabeth said, stepping out of the room.
The door clicked shut.
Moments later, it opened again.
Elizabeth walked in, wearing her usual warm smile—but this time, she wasn't alone.
"Miss Collette," she said gently, moving toward the bed with graceful steps, her uniform neat and flawless.
"I'd like you to meet Dr. Mark."
Daisy lifted her gaze.
Another man stood behind Elizabeth.
"Dr. Mark will be attending to you,"
Elizabeth added, stepping aside to reveal him fully.
"Huh?"
Daisy blinked, taken aback, her brows knitting together.
Only then did she register the man in the white coat.
I didn't even realize she didn't come in alone, Daisy thought.
"Good morning, Miss Collette," the man greeted politely.
"I see you're fully awake."
His voice was calm—professional.
"I'm Dr. Mark," he continued.
"Lucien's personal physician… and his best friend."
That made Daisy stiffen.
"And I'll be checking your pulse," he added, already stepping closer.
Daisy hesitated, then slowly nodded, unsure why he felt the need to explain so much.
"All right," Elizabeth said, clasping her hands.
"I'll excuse you to do your work, Dr. Mark."
"No problem at all, Ma'am Elizabeth," Dr. Mark replied with an easy smile, dimples appearing on his cheeks.
Elizabeth returned the smile, then turned to Daisy.
"If you need anything, Miss Collette, I'll be in the dressing room preparing your clothes."
Daisy nodded silently.
Elizabeth disappeared into the dressing room, leaving the door slightly ajar.
The moment she was gone, the room felt different.
Quieter.
Heavier.
Dr. Mark turned his full attention to Daisy.
"Relax your arm," he said gently.
She obeyed, extending her wrist.
His fingers were warm as he took her pulse, his eyes studying her face carefully—not just her vitals.
"You fainted last night," he said calmly.
"Severe emotional shock. Dehydration too."
Daisy swallowed. "Am I… sick?"
"No," he replied.
"Just overwhelmed."
He paused briefly before adding, "Anyone would be."
That single sentence unsettled her more than comforted her.
Because it sounded like he knew.
He released her wrist and straightened.
"You're physically fine. I'll prescribe something mild for the headache."
Daisy hesitated, then asked quietly, "Did… did he bring me back himself?"
Dr. Mark's gaze flickered—just for a second.
"Yes," he answered.
Nothing more.
No explanation.
No reassurance.
He scribbled something on his pad, then looked at her again.
"Rest, Miss Collette. You're safe—for now."
For now.
The words echoed in her mind long after he turned and walked toward the door.