Chapter 52 – Fight Like Someone Who’s Been Alone Too Long
A gnawing interest that had settled into her bones.
She watched him breathe. Studied the way his hand was slightly curled beside him, as if even in sleep he was bracing for impact.
He didn’t look like a monster. Didn’t look like a weapon. He looked... tired. Human.
"Who even are you?" she muttered.
She glanced toward the tablet she’d set on the nightstand earlier. She hadn’t opened it yet—had promised herself she wouldn’t go digging.
But she’d also already tried her own investigation last night. No family background. No business registry. No university trace. He wasn’t in any elite social catalog. No birth record. No private-sector affiliation.
Nothing.
He just appeared.
And the only thing she’d learned since was how he reacted when Naomi said she had to leave.
That... look.
That moment.
Soft, barely-there, but utterly impossible to forget.
Possessive, yes. Territorial. Like something ancient lived behind his gaze. But also—hopeful. Gentle. Almost scared.
It wasn’t the look of a predator.
It was someone who didn’t want to be alone again.
Rava huffed out a breath.
"That’s what got her, huh?" she muttered.
Yeah.
She could see it now. Why Naomi fell.
Not just the looks or the charm or the weird, smirking confidence that melted the air around him. But that flicker of realness underneath. That broken vulnerability he barely let anyone see.
If he hadn’t let it slip, even just for that second, Rava might’ve walked away. Just chalked him up as another dangerous heartbreaker.
But now?
Now she was here.
Sitting on the edge of the bed like a woman in a drama scene she didn’t remember auditioning for.
She sighed and leaned back slightly, shifting to face him again.
"I’ve been followed by CEOs, princes, and one guy who claimed he owned a moon," she said quietly. "None of them made me feel like I was walking into a storybook I didn’t write."
No response.
Of course.
She watched him sleep a little longer.
It was supposed to be boring.
It wasn’t.
It was... peaceful. Intimate in the weirdest way.
Like watching someone dream who didn’t know how to anymore.
The kind of stillness only seen in people who hadn’t had the chance to rest for a very long time.
Her gaze dropped to his lips.
Perfect. Soft-looking. The kind of lips made for secrets and lies and the occasional stolen kiss.
No.
She pulled her eyes back up.
Abs? Sure.
Dangerous charm? Definitely.
But this wasn’t about that.
This was about him.
And what the hell he was doing in her life.
Rava leaned forward again, resting her elbows back on her knees, and stared at him one last time.
"No family," she whispered. "No connections. No anchor. You walk like someone with power. Talk like someone who doesn’t flinch. Fight like someone who’s been alone too long."
She swallowed, blinking a little too fast.
"Why are you alone, Lux?"
Still no answer.
But she didn’t expect one.
This morning... If it wasn’t for the reporters who followed Mr. Delacour to the hotel, she, Mira, Fiera, and Elyndra might still have been there.
But as Heiresses, they hated reporters. Four Heiresses with their eyes on a new boyfriend of another Heiress? That was just asking for disaster. So they left.
Elyndra came back to the restaurant shortly after though. She’d forgotten her purse. But Rava noticed she looked happy after she left—even though two reporters were trailing her. It was the reason Rava stayed near the hotel, at the café by it. She thought the others were still there, but they were long gone. When she was about to leave, she saw Lux turn into an alley and decided to follow him, only to meet this.
She just stayed. Sat there in silence. Let the storm in her chest quiet.
And for reasons she didn’t fully understand, she reached out. Touched his hand. Just for a second. It was warm. Strong. Not perfect. Not smooth. But real.
She pulled back and stood slowly, her heart thudding in her chest.
"I’m not falling for you," she said softly to no one.
Despite saying it a few times yesterday—joking with her friends that marriage was a scam, that love was just marketing in lingerie form—she wasn’t joking anymore.
What she said yesterday was just that—a joke. But now... it felt real.
And terrifying.
Because deep down, she knew it was too late.
She had fallen for him, and that realization made her furious with herself.
Because now, her logic was gone.
She turned, ready to leave the room before she did something really dumb like touch his face again or ask if he wanted breakfast in bed—when...
"I know you already fell for me," a voice said.
Her body locked up.
She froze mid-step. Slowly turned back.
Lux was still lying there, but now—
His eyes were open.
Glowing faintly in the dim room and far too smug.
Her heart jumped.
"W-what?" she blurted, taking a full step back, like his voice had actual mass.
Lux stretched lazily, like a damn cat that just woke from a nap and knew it owned the place. He winced slightly—still sore—but smiled through it.
"Morning," he said smoothly, blinking at her.
She was stunned for a solid three seconds, then flushed so hard she might as well have transformed into a tomato.
"You... were awake?!" she hissed. "Were you pretending to sleep?!"
"No," Lux said, voice low and very not guilty. "I was sleeping. But you talk loud when you’re emotionally conflicted."
She spluttered. "I—what—!?"
He sat up slowly, still wincing slightly. His shirt was only half-buttoned, hanging off one shoulder. He glanced down at himself, frowned, then looked up at her again.
"Did you just..." He gestured vaguely toward his bare chest.
Rava snapped into defensive mode. "No! I didn’t do anything! I just—I had the doctor come in and examine you. She opened your shirt. I mean—I helped, but just for the—like, holding-your-shoulder part. Strictly medical. I didn’t touch anything weird!"