Chapter 5: A Scumbag's Fantasy

(Lucian's POV) I stood on the terrace, flicking the ash from my cigar. The Manhattan skyline glittered below, a sprawling sea of electric diamonds, yet all I felt was a restless irritation. My phone buzzed in my pocket. I slid the screen open. It was a message from Delilah. The image loaded, and my breath hitched. It was a photo taken in low light, deliberately grainy and suggestive. She was wearing black lace thigh-high stockings, her legs spread wide. Her fingers were blurred, teasingly working over her exposed p***y, while the shadows obscured the most explicit details. It was filthy, desperate, and incredibly hot. My throat went dry. I thought back to the boutique earlier that afternoon. Rosalie in that white mermaid gown-pure, elegant, untouchable. The contrast between her icy restraint and Delilah's cheap, eager availability twisted something dark in my gut. I didn't want to choose. I wanted the saint in my bed and the w***e on the side. I wanted to defile that pristine elegance of Rosalie's. I typed a quick reply: *Wait for me. I'll be there later.* I'd handle Rosalie first. She was always so rigid, so boring between the sheets. Once we were married, I'd have to train her properly. Break that designer pride and teach her how to please a man. My c**k was rock hard. I crushed the cigar into the crystal ashtray and turned back toward the glass doors. (Rosalie's POV) A knock on the bathroom door shattered the silence. I took a deep breath, forcing the bile back down my throat, and opened the door. Lucian stood there, wearing that mask of deep affection that used to fool me. He reached out, taking my hand naturally. His thumb caressed my knuckles, oblivious to how cold my skin was or how stiff my body had become. His eyes snagged on the band-aid wrapped around my index finger. He frowned, feigning concern. "Babe, what happened?" I pulled my hand back, my voice flat. "Paper cut. Organizing files at Steel Tech." He didn't doubt it for a second. He just shook his head with a condescending smile. " leave the grunt work to the assistants. You're almost Mrs. Steel now. Your hands are for wearing diamonds, not working." The sexism was so casual, so ingrained. I arched a brow, a cold smile touching my lips. "Diamonds are nice, Lucian. But diamonds don't build empires. My work does." He blinked, clearly taken aback by the sharp retort. But he quickly recovered, dismissing it with a chuckle. "You're just stressed." He leaned in, his lips seeking the curve of my neck. The smell of stale tobacco and expensive cologne assaulted my senses. Every cell in my body screamed in protest. I turned my head sharply, placing both hands on his chest to push him back. "Wait. We don't have protection." I thought that would stop him. Instead, he didn't even hesitate. "Top drawer of the nightstand. Left side." The words hit me like a physical blow. The blood drained from my face. We had bought this apartment for our marriage. I had never spent a night here. I had never stocked the nightstands. He knew exactly where they were. He knew because he had used them. Here. In our bed. Nausea rolled through me, violent and overwhelming. I shoved him harder. "I need wine. To relax." Lucian looked annoyed at the interruption, but the promise of s*x kept him compliant. "Fine. I'll get it." He turned and walked toward the kitchen. I rushed to the sink, turning on the tap. I scrubbed my neck with a paper towel, rubbing until the skin turned red, trying to erase the phantom sensation of his breath. I looked at the woman in the mirror. Her eyes were dead. Behind me, on the bed, Lucian's phone screen lit up. I walked over. The notification was a standard email alert: *Mr. Steel, meeting materials are ready.* Sender: Delilah Ward. I stared at it. My fingers moved on autopilot. I knew his passcode-the date he founded Steel Tech. The phone unlocked. I didn't open the email app. instead, I swiped to the utility folder and found the calculator app. I punched in the code. The interface changed instantly. A message from Delilah popped up, timestamped seconds ago. It wasn't about a meeting. *Can't wait to feel you inside me.* Below it were three selfies. Nude. obscene. And a location pin for the Regency Hotel. My hands trembled. They weren't just cheating; they had built a secure ecosystem for their betrayal right under my nose. Footsteps echoed in the hallway. I threw the phone back onto the duvet and stepped back. Lucian walked in, carrying two glasses of red wine. He saw me standing near the bed, his eyes flicking to his phone. A shadow of panic crossed his face. I kept my expression blank. "Your assistant Delilah is very dedicated. Sending work emails this late." Lucian relaxed visibly, his shoulders dropping. He let out a laugh, handing me a glass. "Is she? She's new. Efficient, I guess. Honestly, I barely know what she looks like. You know I only care about results." I stared at him. The lie was so lazy it was insulting. I let out a short, incredulous scoff. "Really?" I looked at him like he was an i***t. "Lucian, you work with her twelve hours a day. You're telling me you're face-blind? Don't degrade yourself. You're not that oblivious." The mockery in my tone popped his ego like a balloon. His guilt instantly mutated into anger. He slammed his wine glass down on the dresser, red liquid sloshing over the rim. He yanked his tie loose, his face flushing. "Rosalie, watch your tone. Are you keeping tabs on me?" I took a slow, elegant sip of wine, watching his performance with cold detachment. He paced toward me, launching into the gaslighting routine I now recognized so clearly. "God, you are always so paranoid! I'm out there killing myself for our future, and you're here dissecting my emails? It's suffocating, Rosalie!" He loomed over me, trying to use his height to intimidate, his voice dripping with self-righteous indignation. "haven't I been good to you for seven years? You wanted to get married, I bought the best penthouse on the Upper East Side. You care about your image, I'm giving you the wedding of the century. You wanted the Vera Wang gown, the Harry Winston ring-I gave you everything! You're acting like a control freak. What is it? What more do you want? Do you want my shares in Steel Tech too?"