Dami,

Why?

I write this with shaking hands, my throat tight, my chest caving in on itself.

I don't know what happened to us. I don't know if I ever truly knew you.

Did you give me to Mike? Did you plan that night at the cabin as a farewell, as one last taste before handing me over like I was something to be bartered?

Are you truly like Saira?

Why aren't you more like your father? Alistair never pretended to be anything but who he is. He's blunt and cold, yet I respect that he's honest. If he loves, he loves completely. If he destroys, he does it without pretense.

But you...

You held me, made me believe I was yours, made me think I mattered. That we were unbreakable. That no force, no enemy, no man could ever come between us.

And now—

I look at the magazine Lucifer placed on the coffee table like a dagger to the heart. My fingers tremble as I clutch the pages, the text meaningless, written in a language I can't read.

But the photos? They tear through me, ripping me open like hollow-point bullets.

You.

Sitting in a VIP booth at a football match. A woman draped over you, her Prada-clad body in your arms like she belongs there. Her lips at your ear. Your hand gripping her thigh. Your eyes closed, your mouth locked in a kiss.

There's no mistaking it. The way you hold her like she's your possession.

I can't breathe.

My lungs seize, my vision blurs, my stomach churns violently, but I can't look away.

Lucifer's voice remains calm and detached, as if he acknowledges my destruction.

"Let me translate."

My fingers tighten around the glossy paper.

"He claims you left him," Lucifer says smoothly. "Packed your bags, never returned. That it just didn't work out. Divorce papers filed. Irreconcilable differences."

The words hit like a physical blow.

I shake my head, my pulse thrumming in my ears, drowning out reason. My voice breaks. "No, that's not true."

But there it is.

There you are.

Kissing her. Touching her thigh, her curves. Moving on from me like I'm nothing more than a season in your life.

Like I don't exist.

Who is she? Why does she matter to you? Were you having an affair with her while we were together?

A jagged sob leaps from my throat. My body folds in on itself, my heart rupturing under the weight of it all.

Lucifer is next to me, prying the magazine from my hands before I tear it apart. His knuckles brush my cheek, wiping a tear I didn't realize had fallen. "Shhh," he murmurs. "I wish it weren't true, Nora."

I flinch.

Nora.

Not Chloe.

Chloe is the woman you vowed to protect. The woman you swore you would never let go.

Nora is what's left. A ghost watching her husband forget her in the arms of another.

My entire body shakes as I whisper, "I want my daughter back."

Lucifer exhales, his touch sliding down to grip my hands, still trembling. "In time. But for now, I'm giving you what Damian never could—a second chance."

Tears rush down my face as I shake, the pain of losing you tearing through me.

You were my home. My safe place. My protector. And now, you're the man who's forgotten me.

I press a hand to my chest, desperate to hold myself together, desperate to stop the pain from swallowing me whole.

But it's too late.

It's already destroying me.

***

It's been another week of confinement.

I need to write. To pour out the noise inside me and trap it on paper, locking it away so it doesn't return to my heart. Writing is the only way I can stop myself from drowning. It's supposed to be cathartic. Healing.

I want to believe that.

But nothing soothes this kind of pain.

Nuk is the only one keeping me tethered to reality.

She doesn't say much, but her presence is enough to ground me. In the evenings, she sits with me, quietly weaving bracelets from red thread, her hands deft, her fingers never still. Sometimes, she hums under her breath, a melody I don't recognize, but I let the soft sound fill the silence between us.

"Did you love Lucifer?" I ask.

Nuk scoffs, then pauses. "I did. But he? Not the same. Just sex. No love."

"I'm sorry he broke your heart," I pat her forearm.

"No. It's alright. He touch me no more." She tucks a tendril of hair, showing her pretty, brown doe eyes. "He obsessed with you. He your problem now."

I breathe deeply and close my eyes, thinking of Dawn. I need to get out of here and be with my little girl. Damian's moved on. I'll deal with him. I'll challenge him and take him down if Lucifer's right. Saira's soul-destroying legacy has to stop.

Nuk continues weaving. She doesn't ask if I'm okay. Doesn't press when my breathing grows ragged. She just stays. And maybe that's why I can breathe at all.

Then Lucifer returns.

And Nuk disappears.

She vanishes into her tasks, folding laundry that doesn't need folding, scrubbing spotless floors, retreating to her room when she hears his footsteps. She avoids him like a deer avoids a wolf's shadow.

And I'm alone with him again.

More gentle touching. More whispers of passion from his pretty mouth to my vulnerable ears.

***

Lucifer is gone for a week. When he returns on Saturday morning, I corner him in the hallway, my pulse hammering, my body rigid with the storm of questions howling inside me.

"Can you take me to see Damian?" I plead. "I need answers. I need to know why this is happening." I shake my head, my breath coming short. "I feel like I'm losing my mind."

Lucifer's hands settle on my shoulders, his thumbs circling the nape of my neck. It should be comforting, but it only reminds me of how shattered I am.

"I can take you to Stavanger when I know he'll be there on business," he murmurs. "I'll show you my hometown."

I frown. "Isn't this your home?"

His lips twitch, but there's no humor in it. "No. This is where I go when I need to disappear."

It makes sense why he's always gone, why he slips in and out of this place like a shadow. He doesn't belong here. Just like I don't.

He leads me toward his study, but I stop short, inhaling sharply. "Egil, I need something from you. Let Nuk go. She deserves to return to her home."

His blue eyes don't flicker. "One day. She's under contract."

A dull ache coils in my stomach. Contract. Like me, Nuk is nothing more than a commodity. An asset to keep and control. I search for a tell, a crack in his expression that betrays a lie, but Lucifer is unreadable. His gaze never wavers.

I say nothing. I will find a way for Nuk to be free and for me to leave this cage. I have to. Because if I stay, I will rot from the inside out.

Lucifer inches closer. My body trembles, my lungs constrict, and I can't breathe. He doesn't speak. Doesn't try to fix me with empty reassurances. He embraces me long enough for the tremors in my body to slow, for my heartbeat to find a steady rhythm.

Then, without a word, he takes my hand and leads me into his study. He sits on the piano stool and pulls me close, positioning me between his legs. His warmth seeps through my skin, but my insides feel frozen. His scent is heavenly, like fresh citrus soap.

"When the depression creeps in," he murmurs, tracing a finger over piano, "I come here. Especially in the dead of winter when the sun disappears, when the cold seeps into your bones and never leaves."

I swallow hard. "You? Lonely?" I scoff, though my voice is brittle. "You're incredibly handsome. You could have any woman you want."

His lips quirk, but his eyes hold the depth of the ocean. "I don't want any woman, Nora." He lifts the fallboard, his fingers brushing over the keys with reverence. "You punctured my heart when I first saw a photo of you in Damian's arms on his social media page. It was your wedding day. You were untouchable, radiant—a bride wasted on a man who would only destroy you. You are meant for more."

The words slam into me, knocking the air from my lungs.

I shake my head. "I still don't know you."

"You know my father hates me?" Lucifer's voice quietens like he's peeling a layer he doesn't show the world. "He tells me I'm worthless."

I frown. "Why?"

His jaw tightens. "Because I'm his bastard. Not his real son. My mother had an affair. He found out years ago, and when she died last year, he finally saw his chance. He wants me out of his company. Out of his life."

He turns his head, looking past me. Out the window, the fjord stretches vast and endless. The water is dark and cold, mirroring the sky and the sheer cliffs rising from its depths. It's beautiful in its brutality—unforgiving.

I watch his shoulders tense and his fingers flex and clench as though his past still shackles him.

"Who were you before all this?" I whisper.

He exhales a sharp laugh. "A spoiled playboy burning through his father's money on women and parties." His fingers drift over the piano keys, pressing down absently—a single, melancholy note hanging in the air.

"I never cared about the oil business or politics. I wanted to teach. To compose." His voice softens, almost wistful. "I played with the Stavanger Chamber of Music throughout high school and university."

For a second, he seems lost in the memory. Then, his jaw tightens. His voice turns bitter.

"But Kenneth made sure that dream died. He blackmailed me into the corporate world. And here I am."

I shake my head. "You can walk away now. You're wealthy enough to leave it all behind. You can still teach. Be what you wanted to be."

His eyes darken. "Perhaps. A new start. A new life." He pauses, searching my face. "A new woman."

I stiffen.

"Both of us could start over, Nora," he murmurs, his voice velvety and tempting.

"Start over?" I lean sideways, pressing my head on his shoulder. "I feel like a lost cause. Everything is too much. Too heavy. Too painful. Some days, I don't want to wake up. But then I think of my daughter."

Lucifer doesn't speak.

He simply begins to play.

The dreamy notes of Liebesträume slip into the air, curling around me and lodging themselves deep in the place where grief and longing live.

Maybe it's the codeine. Or the exhaustion. Perhaps it's the unbearable loneliness.

I don't know.

I let my guard slip.

I see the vulnerability in Lucifer—the cracks beneath the polished exterior, the need he tries so hard to hide. The same need that aches in me.

I reach for him.

My fingers brush his arm.

He turns to me, and his eyes darken in the dim glow of the room. He tilts my chin, and my pulse quickens.

I close my eyes, Dami, trying to erase you.

Trying to forget the man who left me broken.

And for one stolen moment, I invite another man's kiss.

***

A/N: What are your thoughts on Lucifer and Chloe? Is Lucifer lying? Damian will return midway in the next chapter (soon). 😡