Soulless: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance (Starcrossed Lovers Trilogy Book 2)

by Jade West

  I shouldn’t even face it. There’s no way I should be feeling what was on the other.

  He continued on by, and a fresh wave of goddamn something bloomed up in me. Hurt. Rejection. Hell knows. One thing I did know was that I wanted Lucian Morelli to want me. I couldn’t lie about that to myself anymore. No matter how many times I tried to deny it. I wanted Lucian Morelli to want me. I needed Lucian Morelli to want me. Jeez, what the fuck?

  I heard his door close at the end of the landing, and I felt so alone that I pulled the covers up over my head. I knew it would happen. It had to. I’d been revisiting memories I’d been running away from for years. I had no coke or alcohol to block it out, and that began to take its toll on me. I felt sick and desperate for the substances I relied on . . . and more . . . I felt sick for more than that. I needed more than that. God help me, I needed more than that.

  Life inside here was messing me up in ways I’d never known. I wasn’t even thinking about life outside anymore. I wasn’t thinking about the inter-family conflict that was brewing because of me, or how frantic people like Tristan and Harriet would be to bring me back. There were a few of them at least. I hadn’t thought about the news reports that might be running on the TV or how Lucian was keeping me away from them this evening. Who knows what they’d be saying now?

  Beyond all that, I was torn between thinking about the monsters from my past and the monster down the hall. There it was in the balance – monsters from my past, or monster down the hall . . .

  I chose the monster down the hall.

  I’d spent years believing that touching myself where it felt good was a bad thing, but I couldn’t stop my fingers slipping down between my legs as I thought about Lucian. I was thinking about the ferocity in his eyes, and how strong he’d been in the kitchen, and how angry he’d looked as I told him about the men who’d fucked me up. I was thinking about the curse in his tone, and how powerful that was, and how his fingers were so firm as he’d sliced the salami. I was thinking about stupid simple things mixed with his beastly soul. If he even had a soul. He was a Morelli, after all.

  I shouldn’t have touched myself and thought about him, but I couldn’t stop. I thought right back to Tinsley’s masked ball where he’d first laid his hands on me and just how much that had swept me away. I thought back to the fear I’d felt in Jemma’s apartment when he’d cornered me there, and just how different I was feeling now to the drugged-up mess who’d wanted to die at his hands – because that was the other thing that was changing . . . I wasn’t so sure I wanted to die anymore. For real, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to die.

  That made one hell of a difference to all the years I’d been begging the universe to snuff me out without a fight.

  My fingers were fast and light between my legs, teasing me as my breaths quickened. The memories blurred and grew more intense, until I was back next to Stephen Cannon’s body with Lucian on top of me, taking my ass. I shouldn’t be thinking about that. I shouldn’t be thinking about how Lucian had stabbed a man to death who’d been trying to rape me. Because that’s what he’d done. My enemy had saved me. Oh fuck, Lucian Morelli had saved me . . .

  My fingers pressed harder to my clit, faster, faster. My breaths were hitching, needy. Lucian. My fingers danced, desperate, and my thoughts were tumbling, more and more. More of the monster. More of his hate and his spite . . . more of what he could do to me . . . because I wanted it. I couldn’t help but want it. I wanted him to be rough with me, and control me, and show me his strength and his power. I wanted him to be the first one to fuck my pussy and make me truly his . . . Lucian. I wanted him to make me truly his . . .

  Holy fuck, I wanted Lucian Morelli to truly make me his . . .

  And then I wanted to stay that way . . .

  I wanted to belong to Lucian Morelli . . .

  Please no. Please.

  My fingers were circling hard enough that I held my breath and raised my hips from the bed. I tried to slow my breathing but I couldn’t, I was too lost in my thrills. My clit was alive and screaming, my body was desperate for the man who was out to tear me apart, and I couldn’t stop myself coming. I couldn’t. I couldn’t.

  I came to the fantasy of belonging to Lucian Morelli for all time.

  It was the most bad girl thing I’d ever done. I should never have the fantasy of belonging to Lucian Morelli for all time. He was a Morelli, and a piece of shit, and an enemy I should be out to destroy, just as he was out to destroy me. Those pieces of shit were nothing but slime. Underhanded criminals who were out to ruin our family name, and now they might do it. The Morellis might team up with the Power Brothers and take my family down . . . all because of me.

  I rolled over in bed and caught my breath, and my mind was the biggest churn it had ever been. I had so many questions and fears and guilty thoughts and needs. This should’ve been a simple case of kidnap and destruction. I thought I’d be bound up and punished and tortured until I was nothing but a dying shell of the woman he wanted to ruin forever. How the holy fuck was I eating pasta and talking about hobbies? How was it me trying to push him into hurting me? Were we in some kind of surreal dimension where I’d been thumped on the head and woken up in cuckoo land?

  Jesus, Lucian had been the one person in my life to hear my story. I’d told him that. I’d told him all my secrets, and he’d listened to them all without so much as a smile at my suffering. This really was cuckoo land.

  I was still lying on my side under the covers when I pulled my knees up to my chest and tried to settle down to some sleep. I needed to stop my whirring mind, but it wouldn’t slow down, churning, churning. That’s when it started churning over the things I’d told the Morelli heir – all of the nasty nights I’d spent afraid of who was coming and what they were going to do to me. Once again I was back in my own pool of fear, once again craving the drink and drugs to block it out of me. Once again there was no coke and champagne to bail me out.

  The night was quiet and cold, what little was left of it. The closed door was an ominous shadow in the corner of the room, and the covers over my head didn’t stop me peering out at it, like I’d learned to do so many times in my past. I started shaking, like always. My mouth turned dry, like always. I gripped my knees tighter to my chest, like always.

  As always, it didn’t work. I was just the scared girl shaking in the dark.

  I switched the light on, but it didn’t make the slightest difference, just seemed to make the closed door more ominous. It should have been ridiculously ominous given the beast that was down the hall, and how he may actually come for me. Yet it wasn’t. The beast down the hall wasn’t ominous at all. Crazy, but true. The beast down the hall felt like my safety, not my fear, and it was the craziest thing of all time when I threw back my covers and swung my feet down onto the floor. I had no idea what the hell I was thinking as I crept my way across the room and pressed my ear to the closed door.

  I couldn’t hear him out there. He was definitely still in his room. Definitely still down the hall, probably deep in slumber since he undoubtedly had a trip into NYC in the morning . . . the early morning . . .

  My crazy took on a fresh level of insane when I eased the doorhandle down and peeked my way out onto the landing. It was dark, and empty. Lucian’s door was closed at the end, I could just about see it in the shadows.

  I held my breath as I stepped out. I still had his damn shirt on, and it felt floaty against my thighs, still sore from where I’d cut them earlier. I ghosted my way closer to his room with my heart pounding and my nerves on fire, and I should’ve raced back to my shitty bed in the other shitty room, but I didn’t. I pressed myself up against his door and placed my hand on the handle.

  Please, God, what the fuck am I doing?

  I turned the handle as gently as I could, and I was shaking. I was a wreck. I was insane as I slowly opened the door.

  I was fully expecting Lucian to sit stark upright in bed, then come charging after me, dragging me back down the hallway and belting m
e at the very least before locking me back in my room. But no. He didn’t.

  Lucian Morelli was asleep in his bed, fast asleep to the world.

  I should’ve stolen his keys and got the hell out of there – driving his car back into the city and condemning him for good, but I didn’t. Hell knows why, but I didn’t.

  I felt like a naughty scared girl as I crept up to the side of him. I waited a full minute at least before I dared to ease the covers back just enough to slip myself inside of them. I stayed right on the edge of the mattress, trying not to disturb him, keeping as far away as I could. Still, I couldn’t help myself. His warmth was too inviting. Bizarrely enough, I felt safer next to the monster than I had anywhere else in the whole damn world. Nobody would ever get to me in this place . . . Nobody but the monster himself . . .

  It was sad but fucking true that the monster was fast becoming the one man I wanted to get me, only this time it wasn’t about him wiping me out and freeing me from my pitiful misery . . .

  This time it was about becoming the monster’s prey in a whole other way . . .

  I couldn’t deny it . . . I wanted the monster to love me enough to keep me safe . . .

  It was true . . .

  Oh my God, it was true . . .

  I wanted the monster to love me.

  26

  Lucian

  I had never overslept in my life, not like I did that morning. I awoke from my bed with the daylight fast streaming through the window, cursing myself for my fucking stupidity . . . only to find Elaine Constantine in my bed next to me.

  My arch enemy bitch was in my bed next to me.

  I stared in shock at the figure at my side, curled up tight with her knees to her chest, sleeping as soundly as I had been. My first instinct was to shake her the fuck awake and drag her the fuck out of there, cheeky fucking bitch, but I didn’t. Yet again, I fucking didn’t. I just stared at her like a fucking fool.

  Elaine Constantine was in my fucking bed.

  In my FUCKING BED.

  Nobody was ever in my fucking bed, let alone a fucking Constantine.

  Still, I didn’t move. Still, I sat and stared at her like some kind of idiot.

  It was when I twisted and reached for my cell on the bedside table that she stirred beside me. It was when she stretched out her arms, still dressed in my shirt, that I realized just how fast asleep she had been. It appears she was going as damn fucking crazy as I was, choosing to sneak into her soon-to-be destroyer’s bed in the middle of the night.

  She rolled over, and that’s when she tensed and leaped up in bed. She was terrified in that moment, eyes wide as she registered just how hard I was staring at her.

  “I, um . . .” she began. “The room down there was . . .”

  “Was what?” I asked, and my voice was a hiss.

  “It was, um . . .”

  I pointed a finger at her. “We’re not fucking buddies now, Elaine. I’m not your new pussy boy Tristan because you told me some secrets.”

  She looked more than put out at that, throwing the covers off and moving to get out of there, but I took hold of her arm before she managed it.

  “I’m fucking sorry, alright?” she said in her usual snarky tone, then tried to wrench away from me, but I wouldn’t let her.

  I yanked her back around until she was facing me, and I couldn’t work out what she was thinking as I met her eyes, still trying to squirm her way from my grip.

  “You must be insane,” I hissed. “Climbing in bed with me. Absolutely fucking insane.”

  “Yeah, well, I probably am,” she said, and gave up the fight.

  She slumped down and let out a sigh, and I found myself staring at her in a whole new way. Brave little bitch. That sassy little cow had climbed into bed with me. Next to me. Because she wanted to, not because she was dragged there. She really did have some fire in her.

  My cell vibrating on the bedside table pulled me back to my senses. Crap. Eleven missed calls from various people at Morelli Holdings . . . and one of them was my father. Holy fucking shit, one of them was my father.

  I jumped from the bed and rushed for a shirt from the wardrobe, not even time for a shower.

  “We’ll talk about this when I get back,” I growled at her. “Don’t you dare think this is some kind of normal.”

  “Like I’d ever think this is normal,” she said. “Why don’t you drop me in the city on your way back through? Then at least we stand some chance of going back to some kind of damn normal.”

  I scoffed at her. “Like I’m ever going to drop you back in the fucking city, Elaine. Nothing’s changed because we had a bit of a chat in the kitchen last night.”

  “And ate some pasta,” she added, and there it fucking was again, that cheeky smile. “Don’t forget the wonders of slicing salami just right, Lucian. We’re almost besties now, I’m sure.”

  “Fuck you,” I said and pulled my pants on.

  Still, I didn’t hurt her. I left her cross-legged on my bed, in my damn shirt, with her messy blonde curls, looking like a night before conquest, even though I’d never had one. Hunter Sparro would do his damn best-mate mockery if he had any idea. That and call me the craziest prick on the whole damn planet.

  I didn’t say goodbye and neither did she. I raced out of there and slammed the door without so much as a coffee or a look behind me. I was smoothing my hair down in the rearview as I pulled away from that bullshit place. Traffic was a fuck-up as I made my way into the city, and I tried to play it cool as I returned the calls on my cell. All except my father’s. I didn’t return the call from my father.

  I never lied. Ever. It was my main rule of life. Right from the beginning, as a tiny little boy, I didn’t lie. I’d seen an idiot kid at kindergarten lying every day, and I despised him for it, hating everything about him and his bullshit. Hell knows why it offended me so much, but it did. It offended me enough to call him out and give him a black eye. Lucian Morelli never lied. It was my rule. My rule that would never be broken.

  I imagine that’s why my guts were so twisted up as I neared Morelli Holdings. I had no idea what the hell I was going to say to my father when he started asking questions.

  As it turned out, I didn’t have all that long to think about it.

  He was already waiting for me when I arrived.

  27

  Elaine

  I stayed in Lucian’s bed for a long while after I heard him disappear. His bed was much more comfortable than the one along the landing – no surprise there – but it was about more than that. It smelled like him. The covers smelled like the beautiful monster. I was engulfed by the scent of the beautiful monster. I could’ve stayed there for days like a schoolgirl with a stupid damn crush.

  I finally dragged myself downstairs when the morning was truly underway, dropping myself onto the sofa and switching on the TV like I was a lazy teenager as well as one with a crush. The news channels were still blaring about my disappearance. There were randoms commenting and speculating on what had happened to me, and a police helpline to call with any information. My family were plastered all over the channels, giving gushing tearful requests for people to find me, as fake as they usually were. Well, apart from Harriet. Harriet was anything but fake as she talked about how important I was to her and how desperate she was for me to come home. It ate me up inside to think she was probably crying for me through every minute of the day.

  Part of me expected to see Tristan on there talking about my disappearance. There was a big chunk of me that thought maybe he would be all guns blazing to let the world know about my interactions with Lucian, but there was nothing. Not a peep from him. I only hoped he was doing okay. Just as long as nobody had reached him or, worse, silenced him.

  I turned my mind away from that as best as I could. Lucian wouldn’t have needed to silence him because he had nothing to say that would have any real weight to it. I left a note on my counter. I blamed it on the Power Brothers in my own handwriting. Tristan would have believed my note. H
e should’ve believed my note. Not that I expected him to believe everything I said, but this was beyond my usual level of lying, for sure.

  I got a weird tickle inside me as I pulled myself away from the TV to grab some breakfast. It was a rush of something in my stomach. Instinct. I stopped on the spot in the hallway and turned to the front door, and there was something about it, an impulse to check the handle. I reached out and didn’t expect to get anywhere, because surely not. I’d heard it slam when Lucian was on his way out, and he’d always lock it, of course he would, only this morning he was rushing . . . maybe . . . just maybe . . .

  My heart leapt a mile when the door swung open with a creak. Oh my God, I was free! I was FREE! It felt so weird stepping onto the porch, because I could run. There were lanes and tracks and roads stretching back out towards the city. No doubt I could find someone, anyone to hear my pleas and screams and efforts to get heard. I could have Lucian Morelli condemned before he’d ever make it back out of Morelli Holdings. I could destroy him. I could.

  I grabbed my discarded shoes from behind the door and slipped them on with shaking hands. The world outside was fresh and cold, and the sun was up bright in the sky. Yeah, I could run from here. The driveway was long, sure, but it was doable. I could wrap up in warm clothes and make my dash for it. I could see the back of Lucian Morelli for all time, and cause an inter-family battle that would stand one hell of a good chance of swinging in Constantine favor, just so long as I could shake off this damn craziness about wanting him . . .

  I could do it. Surely, I could. I should be able to. I should definitely be able to. He was nothing but a piece-of-shit enemy of mine who wanted to see me torn apart, and I needed to remember that. I should damn well remember that with every breath in my body. YES. YES.

  Fuck. I cursed myself out loud when I felt the pang of no in my belly. No. What the fuck was no? But it was no. I couldn’t do it. Fuck my life, I couldn’t. There was no damn way I could shake off the damn craziness about wanting him. Not in a million damn years.