Lucius, Lucius... I will never fully understand what he does to me. If only you had been there by my side, my friend, holding my hand and encouraging me so I wouldn't feel so guilty for loving him this much... Don't worry, I'm going to tell you everything, but only because you promised you would never judge me.
Within seconds, guided by his wild movements, I was completely naked, on all fours on that couch. Hands and knees planted, my lower back arched, hips raised and waiting, completely surrendered to his absolute will.
The clouds parted, and the bright moon emerged. There I was, like a she-wolf in heat waiting for him, ready to feel his power inside me. Lucius reads me; he knows me.
He gives my backside a hard slap, right near my inner thigh, drawing a primal whimper from me. Then another, and another, and I arch even more for him, but he isn't satisfied. He likes it when faint, quick breaths escape my lips.
I don't know how he does it—I really don't—but he makes me feel like the most beautiful woman in the universe. A woman connected to her instincts, chosen. Every time I receive his power with an open body, I become more primal. I adore what he gives me. My mind... goodbye, I don't need it right now. Around me, the city lights fade, replaced by growing moss and trees shrouded in the misty night woods... and I remain naked in that dark place of dominant scents. Lucius is my relentless beast, demanding that I leave my humanity behind and free myself with every slap.
And he succeeded. I was so happy, running my tongue over my lips. Of all the creatures on earth, I was the queen, and he—he was my only king.
I don't want to make love. What I feel when he dominates me is a rising need to mate. Yes, I don't use that word lightly. I wanted Lucius to make me his female, not his woman—just a proud she-wolf because the alpha of the pack had chosen her. He manages to transform me, and I... with every strike of his hand, I burn hotter...
The moon is up there; she deserves to see that she still rules over the creatures of the night. One more slap, and then another. I throw my head back, mouth open... he doesn't stop. He never stops.
I know it. It's happening to me again. It's the certainty—that absolute certainty about the future. I know he will come for me. I know I will feel his hands from behind again, but this time, they will rest on my belly in a loving embrace. I know it, damn it, I know it, Lucius... I will look for him in a few years... I have the certainty... I will get pregnant by him.
When he claimed me, I felt his full weight and power inside me. He didn't move, and I love that; he never moves at first. He just fills me completely and stays there, waiting for my whimpers. I can't hold them back, and the moment my second howl cuts through the air, he begins driving into me like an animal. I reached my climax far too quickly. The moon hid behind the clouds, but he needed more from me—he wanted all of me.
I was exhausted, my friend, yet he remained as steady as the steel in his eyes. He knows exactly what he's doing. He's a master of sex, and he brought me right back into a world of fantasy with a single command. Taking my hand, he made me lie down, wrapping my arms around the cold metal of one of those massive vintage telescopes. My breasts instantly hardened against the freezing copper, and I loved it. Barely noticing, he took me again, but from behind this time, and I let him enter without complaint, apart from the pleasure and sweet agony escaping my mouth with each of his frantic thrusts. When he came inside me, I felt an overwhelming urge to tell him.
"You're my favorite animal," I whispered.
"Little girl, I'm going to miss you so much," he replied, kissing my back and neck.
Naked, the two of us fell asleep in his bed. I woke up in the middle of the night to his hands caressing my breasts. This time, facing each other, we made love—softly and delicately. Over and over, he entered me while looking deep into my eyes, constantly telling me how beautiful I was, how much he loved me. We reached the peak together one more time.
While he went to the kitchen for coffee, I lay there thinking: Should I tell him? Should I tell him I know I'm going to marry his brother? Do I confess to Lucius that "the certainty"—the name I gave to these flashes of the future—tells me I'll have his child? I decided against it. While waiting for him to return, I came up with my own theory: maybe Clara, the psychic, had transferred some of her powers to me. At least a little bit. That was why she didn't want to touch us too much, only grabbing us for a second before letting go. But she had held onto me longer—much longer—and some of that energy must have rubbed off on me.
I checked my phone and found a message from Evangelina that made me laugh. It read: I'm remodeling the entire mansion. Bad memories. Now I've had a whole room built just for you, right next to mine. Come visit me.
I replied, telling her I was leaving Longfield behind and that tomorrow, once I signed my termination paperwork, I would return to Mary Garden. Despite the late hour, she texted back instantly: I'll come visit you if you invite me... will you invite me?
"You'll always be welcome," I replied.
She asked: Have you heard anything from Bruce? We fought before he left. That bastard is determined to take my heart. He's had me in his claws since we were kids. Why are men like this? When I'm with you, I feel like I don't need him. I want to see you. I'll come see you, I swear.
I sent her a massive heart emoji and thought: If she—the most beautiful creature in the galaxy, the new owner of an empire worth more than several major countries combined—if she is complaining about love... then my situation isn't so bad. Of course, I still didn't know just how much I was going to miss them.
The flight back was full of laughter and happiness. Each of them, completely convinced they had made love to me in an unforgettable way, dropped hints about how much I would miss them, and they were right. They are so different that comparing them is useless. From the airport, we took a helicopter straight to the mansion, where Mr. Longfield and Úrsula were waiting for us.
The five of us walked into the residence. The patriarch looked at me and said, "Carmilla, if you still wish to go through with it, your severance agreement is ready. Since your arrival at Longfield, things have changed. My sons and I owe you far too much. That has taught us not to underestimate the importance of people who do not belong to our world. But make no mistake: I am so upset with you that if it weren't for Úrsula, I would have declared war on you, and you would be in serious trouble. Now, leave me alone with her for a few minutes."
Everyone filed out. I simply said, "I'm glad you can finally leave your residence. I like seeing you with Úrsula; she truly loves you."
His expression turned stern, but he couldn't hide his emotion as he spoke.
"Look, little girl, I trust your good heart so much that you are the only one leaving this place with everything settled. You have your house, and in case you didn't know, your perfume went on pre-sale and broke order records worldwide. It will be the first time a fragrance generates more revenue than the weapons we sell. But something about you worries me. I wouldn't usually dare offer advice, but I believe you need it... My sons are raised to move on with their lives. I will not allow you to see them again unless it is strictly necessary for business. Do you understand?"
With absolute confidence, I replied, "I understand perfectly, but I know I will see them again. When time passes, I will still be in their hearts. I didn't want it to be this way—it wasn't my intention when I came to Longfield, and I'm sorry. Your sons were raised to love."
He didn't answer me. He called the others back in and told them to say their goodbyes.
Lucius wrapped his arms around me and said, "You already know."
I nodded.
Killian teared up, whispering, "You still owe me a date."
Mr. Longfield kissed the back of my hand and ordered me to head to the garage with Úrsula. We drove away in a massive armored SUV.
Úrsula and I comforted each other. She kept repeating how much she had learned from me. I signed the agreement without even reading it. She clarified, "There's no bonus, and no more salary, but take this card. The royalties for the use of your likeness and the perfume design will be deposited here. You did it, Carmilla. You beat them all."
When we arrived, I couldn't even recognize Mary Garden from the outside. There were people at the gates taking photos and several trucks from television networks. The house now featured high walls and security gates lined with cameras on the exterior. She showed me how to activate the alarms, explaining that journalists and fans had tried to trespass, forcing them to reinforce the property lines.
Úrsula added, "There are three things you cannot do, and three things you can do under this severance agreement."
"You cannot speak to the press, write a book, or mention what happened between you and the Longfields to any media outlet. You cannot return to the mansion unless you are invited. And you cannot—and should not, under any circumstances—accept a job outside of us. Basically, if you want to work, the Longfields will provide whatever job you are looking for."
"What you can do is travel wherever you like and use Longfield facilities worldwide for life. Your name is on the empire's VIP list. Except for the mansion, you are welcome in any of our clubs, buildings, or companies. You can—and should—hire one of our Longfield-approved financial professionals to manage your money. I highly recommend Mina Martins; her contact info is in the agreement. And finally, you can attend any university you want. It doesn't matter what you want to study or where; the agreement offers these perks as an incentive to ensure you never betray the family. I know it's unnecessary. No one knows better than I do that, despite being a bit reckless, you are one of the few genuinely good people I've ever met."
Before saying goodbye, she warned me, "Mr. Longfield wants Lucius to become president. The wedding to Sarah will be soon. Nothing can distract him now. Stay as far away from the brothers as you can."
The first thing I did was visit Carol and Mary's graves. I cried heavily as I watered the flowers around them. Knowing that tomorrow I will wake up without seeing them tears my soul apart. I recalled a phrase Carol used to repeat whenever we read Springtimes at the Tigre Hotel. In her soft voice, weakened by illness, she would comfort me, saying:
"In novels, princes and heroes always return to their love. Don't worry."