Chapter 2

Celine’s pov.

My body reacted before my mind could catch up. I flinched, squeezing my eyes shut and bracing myself for the impact. But nothing came…

There was heavy silence as I slowly opened my eyes. Lucien’s hand was still raised, but instead of striking me, his fingers twitched, curling into a fist before relaxing. Then, without warning, he grabbed my chin, forcing my face up to meet his gaze.

His grip wasn’t bruising, but it was firm and possessive.

“Look at me.” His low voice sounded controlled, but the storm in his eyes betrayed his restraint.

I swallowed as my pulse quickened against my skin.

“You humiliated me tonight.” He leaned in, his breath warm against my cheek. “I won’t tolerate it again.

His thumb brushed over my jaw quite gently, before tilting my head higher. “Get a grip of yourself.” He murmured. “You see that room over there?” He said, pointing at the room we just walked out from. “I would be meeting important people in there, so don’t sabotage things for me.”

He let go abruptly, and I staggered back. Lucien didn’t bother to wait for a response, he simply turned and walked away, leaving me standing there.

My eyes burned with unshed tears, but I refused let them fall. I swallowed hard, blinking rapidly as I turned, my gaze darting frantically around the dimly lit hall.

I needed to get away. Somewhere…anywhere.  

My sadness grew as I hurried down the corridor, my heels clicking against the marble floor. I needed to get to the restroom.

I finally spotted the restroom, and I lounged forward, as if slowing down would make it disappear from its spot. But before I could reached it, a man walked out of a corner, almost bumping into me. I stumbled back, my breath hitching as the sharp scent of whiskey and sweat filled my nose.

The man in front of me was obviously drunk, his suit wrinkled and ill-fitted, like he had either crashed the event or had let alcohol strip away whatever refinement he once had. His eyes were blank, his smirk lazy and predatory.

Before I could step away, his fingers clamped around my wrist.

“Hi, damsel,” he slurred, his grip tightening. “You wanna have some fun?”

A shiver of disgust crawled down my spine. I yanked my hand back, but his hold only grew firmer.

“Let go,” I said, my voice calm but firm.

He chuckled, swaying slightly. “Oh, don’t be like that, sweetheart. Just one dance… or maybe something better.”

My pulse kicked up, irritation flashing through me. I didn’t have time for this. But before I could shove him away, a deep, commanding voice sliced through the tension.

“She said you should let her go.”

We both turned and met a pair of dark, unreal eyes. He stood just a few steps away, his imposing frame casting a long shadow over the scene. His expression was calm, but his presence alone was enough to make the drunk man stiffen.

However, the drunk man scoffed,  his breath reeking of cheap alcohol. He barely spared the stranger a glance before sneering, “Fuck off. Go play somewhere else, pretty boy.”

Whoever this mystery man was…he didn’t move, didn’t raise his voice. He simply repeated himself, his words cutting through the air like a blade.

“Take your hands off her.”

But this time, he didn’t wait for a response. With a slow, almost calculated precision, he stepped forward, each movement commanding. And then,before I could react, his hand moved. Fingers wrapped around the drunk’s throat.

The man’s grip on my wrist vanished instantly, replaced by a choking gasp. My heart slammed against my ribs as I watched, wide-eyed, as his face darkened, turning an alarming shade of red. Even as it became clear that he couldn’t breathe, even as his mouth opened and closed in silent panic, the stranger didn’t loosen his hold.

His grip was unyielding. Terrifying even.

The drunk didn’t struggle. He couldn’t. It was as if every ounce of fight had been drained from him, his limbs frozen in place, his body wilting under the invisible force pressing down on him.

It didn’t make sense. It was unnatural…it was inhuman.

I should have looked away, or at least stop him.But I didn’t—I couldn’t, because the way he held him was so effortless, so possessive. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen. There was no struggle, no resistance. It was as if the very air had been stripped from the drunk man’s lungs, as if his body was betraying him, forcing him into submission.

And the stranger? He was enjoying it. There was no emotion on his face, no hint of anger or malice. Just cold control. Like he was merely correcting an inconvenience.

The drunk man’s eyes bulged, his lips parting in a desperate attempt to suck in air. His hands clawed at the wrist wrapped around his throat, but it was useless. He wasn’t just choking, it was as though his very life was being drained from him.

I took a step back, a shiver crawling down my spine. I should have been afraid, but yet—a dark part of me was entranced.

Finally, after what felt like eternity, he spoke.

“Walk away.” His voice was low, calm, and deceptively soft. And just like that,he released him.

The man crumpled instantly, collapsing onto his knees with a strangled wheeze. He gasped for air, clutching his throat, his entire body trembling like a leaf caught in a storm. He didn’t argue, didn’t fight back. He simply scrambled away, stumbling over himself in his desperate attempt to get as far away as possible.

The the hallway had fallen eerily silent. Slowly, I turned my head, my heart pounding as I met the eyes of the man who had just suffocated someone with barely a flick of his wrist. He was watching me now, his dark, piercing eyes locked onto mine with a kind of interest that sent a dangerous thrill down my spine.