Page 32 of Cruel Hero

Rain check on lunch? I’ll drop by your studio in an hour.

I hit send before I can overthink it further. I must end things with Lucas, for both our sakes. It’d be cruel to string him along any longer.

With a sigh, I set my phone aside and go looking for Luis.

I find him in the penthouse’s expansive living room, poring over blueprints of the building and its security systems. He looks up as I approach, his eyes narrowing in assessment.

“What can I do for you, Miss Carter?”

“I need to go out for a bit.”

Luis’s expression remains impassive. “Adrien was very clear that you were to remain here.”

“I understand that, but I have some personal business I need to take care of. It can’t wait.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Carter, but my orders are to keep you here,” Luis says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“I appreciate the concern for my safety. But I’m not a prisoner here. I have the right to leave if I choose to.”

“My job is to follow Adrien’s orders. And those orders are to ensure your safety.”

I take a step closer, meeting his gaze directly. “And what if I decide to leave anyway? Are you going to physically restrain me?”

Tension crackles in the air between us. Then Luis sighs, his rigid posture relaxing slightly.

“No, Miss Carter, I won’t restrain you, but I strongly advise against leaving. It’s not safe out there for you right now.”

“How about a compromise?” I ask. “You can accompany me as my security detail. That way, I’ll be protected, but still able to handle my personal business.”

Luis considers this for a moment, then gives a curt nod. “Very well, but we’ll take extra precautions, and you’ll need to follow my instructions. Understood?”

“Yes. Thank you, Luis.”

As we head down to the garage, he briefs me on security protocols. We take an unmarked car, with another security vehicle following discreetly behind. I direct Luis to Lucas’s art studio address, my stomach churning with nerves as we get closer.

When we arrive, Luis insists on doing a perimeter check before letting me out of the car. Finally, he gives me the all-clear.

“I’ll wait out here,” Luis says as I prepare to exit the car. “But if you’re not back in ten minutes, I’m coming in after you.”

As my hand hovers over the door handle, I tell him, “For what it’s worth, I apologize for putting you in this position. I hope I’m not causing too much trouble for you.”

“If I said that you were, Tiffany, would you change your mind and go home?”

It’s nice to see that he has a personality underneath his stern exterior. The tension between us seems to lighten a bit and I can’t help but let out a laugh.

“No, I wouldn’t.”

Luis rolls his eyes, but there’s a hint of amusement in his expression. “You have ten minutes.”

The door to Lucas’ studio is unlocked—he has a horrible habit of forgetting to lock it—and I slip inside.

The space is filled with an array of colorful canvases and sculptures, and the scent of paint and turpentine fills the air. I spot Lucas standing in front of a canvas, immersed in his work. His back is to me, and he doesn’t hear my footsteps approaching. As I get closer, his shoulders tense up, and he stops painting and turns around, his eyes widening in surprise at the sight of me.

“Tiffany!” Lucas exclaims, setting down his paintbrush and wiping his hands on a rag. As he steps closer, I can see flecks of paint on his cheek and in his tousled hair. He looks adorably disheveled, and I’m reminded of all the reasons I was drawn to him. Kind. Good. Easy on the eyes. “I was starting to worry. Is everything okay?”

“I’m sorry for disappearing on you,” I say, struggling to meet his eyes. “Things have been... complicated.”

“What’s going on?” Lucas’s brow furrows with concern, his paint-stained hands reaching out instinctively before he catches himself and shoves them into the pockets of his worn jeans. “Complicated how? You’ve been acting... different lately. Is it Dean’s estate? Or...” He hesitates, his voice softening. “Is it something else?”

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