Lucian’s Hands

Lucian POV 

The click of the remote echoed louder than it should have in the stillness of my penthouse. The news anchor’s voice cut through the silence like a scalpel, sharp, surgical, and cold.

“Fashion CEO Eloise Sinclair remains in critical condition after a shocking incident at Café Moira, an antique bookstore. Witnesses say—”

I didn’t hear the rest.

The glass in my hand tilted before I noticed. Water spilled across my thigh, soaking into the denim. I barely flinched. My eyes were locked on the screen, on her.

Eloise. As the paramedics moved her, her dress bloodstained.

Even unconscious, even bloodied, God, that dress—I knew her body...