Chapter 152: The trauma
Lucius lay quietly on the edge of the bed, his gaze fixed on Layla’s peaceful face. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm hue over her delicate features, highlighting her serenity. He reached out, his fingers gently threading through her hair, the back of his hand grazing her cheek as if memorizing every curve.
Her slow, steady breaths brushed against his chest, grounding him in the moment. He pulled her closer, wrapping his arm around her protectively. "I don’t want you involved in my affairs. Lying to you makes me feel pathetic," he whispered, his voice barely audible, laced with regret.
Layla stirred in her sleep, shifting to face away from him, her back now pressing against his chest. Lucius followed her movement, closing the small gap between them as he nestled against her. His lips pressed a lingering kiss to her neck before he sighed and carefully slid out from under the duvet.
After putting on his shirt, he glanced at her one last time, his expression torn, before turning off the bedside lamp and slipping out of the room.
Once inside his study, Lucius closed the door behind him. He opened a drawer, retrieving a phone he rarely used. He dialed a number and leaned against the desk, waiting as the call connected.
After a few rings, a familiar voice answered. "Lucius! It’s been a long time," Demitri Velkazh greeted.
"It has," Lucius replied, his voice steady, though the tension was palpable.
"What’s bothering you? How can I help?" Demitri asked, sipping from a mug of cold coffee, his late-night ritual.
"Let’s meet tomorrow morning. It’s complicated to explain over the phone," Lucius suggested, his tone firm but tired.