He had built comfort around her without asking for gratitude.
After everything Anthony had taken, demanded, twisted, and weaponized—
this simple, careful kindness felt devastating.
Allison looked at him and had the absurd, unfiltered thought:
I should hug him.
Then, because the thought clearly had lost all sense in her exhaustion, another followed immediately after it.
I should kiss him.
The second thought should have frightened her into sense.
Instead, it landed with astonishing clarity.
Because she wanted to.
Because all night long she had been holding herself together with elegance and anger and strategic grace, and now she was standing in a room built with quiet care by a man who made her feel safe without ever making her feel small.
Allison moved before she could overthink it.
Lucian straightened just slightly as she crossed the room toward him.
One step.
Then another.
