99 Times for Alpha’s Bestie novel Chapter 65

I came here, expecting the worst. I came here expecting Lucien, but it wasn’t Lucien at all.

To my utter bewilderment, a crew of burly workers stood there, hefting bags of cement, their faces stern.

“Excuse me, Ms. Reese?” The foreman adjusted his glasses. “Property management received a complaint. Your balcony infringes on your neighbour’s privacy. It must be sealed immediately.”

The blood drained from my face. I knew precisely who orchestrated this.

As workers moved to enter, I planted myself in the doorway.

“Excuse me, but I’m the owner! You can’t touch my balcony without my authorization! Additionally, I know my rights, and you will not enter my home this late in the evening without a proper twenty-four-hour notice given!”

“The directive is mandatory, Ms. Reese,” the worker stated coldly. “Your consent isn’t required.”

The sprawling, sun-drenched balcony had been the luxury apartment’s crowning feature when I had chosen it.

Now sealed with concrete?

Not only would the gorgeous views and natural light vanish, but it seems a little extreme to ensure privacy.

Lucien was intentionally being a d**k, and I wasn’t going to back down on this. I was done submitting to the ego of Alphas.

“I refuse! Leave now, I’ll handle this with my neighbour personally! If management chooses to move forward, I would like to receive a refund for the property I have just paid for. This clause is not listed in the paperwork. Now leave or hear from my lawyers.” I crossed my arms, refusing to budge.

After a tense call with the property manager, they agreed to a temporary stay until a resolution can be determined.

The men left, annoyed, and I wasted no time storming over to Lucien’s door, emotions churning. I mashed the doorbell repeatedly, my finger jabbing like a weapon.

My hands shook against the button.

Why were they so unsteady? Because I am pissed off, that’s why-sending construction men to my apartment at eleven o’clock in the evening? He has some nerve!

I was internally ranting so much that my pulse roared in my ears.

I inhaled sharply, willing myself to maintain my composure, but when the door swung open, my breath caught.

Lucien stood there, a towel barely clinging to his hips, water glistening down his torso.

His eyes raked over me like I was a trespasser and he hadn’t just sent four stranger males over to my place.

“Lucien…” My throat tightened as I forced out the words. “Who do you think you are? Why would you send men over to seal my balcony?”

“I think we already know who I am, as for your balcony-figure it out.”

I stepped forward, rallying defiance.

“I was drying my clothes! I wasn’t peeking at you bathing, and seriously, who bathes outdoors anyway? If you don’t care about privacy, don’t blame me!”

“Do I strike you as someone who gives a crap about your rights, Claire? Move out or seal the balcony. Those are your only options.” His expression remained stone-cold, every syllable sharp as a shard of ice.

White-hot anger surged through me, but I swallowed it down.

“I don’t accept either option,” I shot back, lifting my chin. “Why can’t you just… bathe indoors like a normal person?”

Lucien’s eyes turned predatory as his arm snapped out unexpectedly and he dragged me flush against his damp, bare torso. His large hand fisted in my hair while his breath, hot from the shower and laced with pine, seared my face.

“I don’t negotiate. Especially not for you.”

My pulse went haywire; my palms were slick with sweat, despite my outwardly confident and defiant act.

This shouldn’t be sexy, but it kind of was. No! I’m not attracted to Lucien Thorne. I won’t allow it!

“Lucien, I’m homeless otherwise! That balcony’s the best feature of the whole place! Walling it up would ruin everything-” I switched tactics and poured on the desperation.

Silence.

Encouraged, I let trembling fingers brush his burning skin. “Just… move your bathtub inside? As a favour?”

He jerked back like I had scalded him, fingers digging into my jaw. “Drop the act. I know exactly why you’re living next door.”

“Ethan found this apartment for me. He never said you lived here! Ask him if you don’t believe me!”My brow furrowed in confusion.

“My terms stand. There will be no exceptions.” His decree brooked no argument.

My breath hitched. Throwing my head side to side like a spooked mare, I spat, “Well, that’s curious because I’m not leaving, and that balcony stays as it is!”

With a contemptuous snort, he swept me into the room with the terrifying strength of an Alpha male in his prime. He was also adjusting his tactics to counter my stubbornness, The difference was that he was more dominant physically.

The lock on the door behind me clicked like a trap snapping shut. I stood, swallowed whole by his looming presence, the door sealing us in.

“Cut the coy act, Claire.” his voice oozed mocking amusement as he idly undid the tie of his robe, “If you’re begging for it, I’ll obligee…”

I shoved him back, voice shaking. “Don’t!”

“Why not?” There was an unnerving smirk on his face. He was enjoying watching me squirm.

My heart stuttered. It took me a minute to realize that he was dead serious about his advances. “This isn’t funny, Lucien!”

His fingertips trailed from my neck to my lips. “You moved here to worm your way back into my world. Begging to get back into my home, and now you’ve moved next door. Let’s give you exactly what you came for.”

Just as his body crushed against mine-

Desperate, I gasped, “Lucien! You just flew back. You must be starving! I’ll make you spaghetti, like when we were kids!”

My signature dish, a Reese family classic.

I remembered how he’d wolfed it down like a starving man that first time. That dish alone used to snap him out of his worst tempers growing up.

Every time I would riled him up, one plate would melt his anger away.

But after our final fight, that comfort of spaghetti was gone for good. It never tasted the same without him, so I stopped cooking it.

Lucien froze. His Adam’s apple jumped before his lips curled into an icy glare. “I’m not hungry.”

He put up his front, but I caught that fleeting weakness.

Twisting free like a cornered rabbit against the big bad wolf that he was, I bolted for the kitchen.

The fridge had everything: spaghetti, tomatoes, all within reach.

Soon, the oil hissed in the pan, flooding the kitchen with the rich, toasty scent of home.

When a steaming plate of spaghetti, shimmering with olive oil and crowned with tomatoes, was set before Lucien, he stopped resisting.

The moment the first strands touched his tongue, the familiar yet long-lost flavour exploded across his taste buds. The tension in his jaw eased slightly, and even his wintry demeanour thawed a fraction.

My heart leaped with cautious hope as I studied his expression.

“Remember, Lucien? You were a bottomless pit back then-one plate was never enough. You’d always pester my mom for tiramisu and panna cotta next. Every time you stayed over, your cheeks would get rounder…”

“And when holidays ended, you’d dig your heels in by the door begging for ‘just one more night…”

The spun-sugar memories hung fragile between us.

However, the moment the words about my mum came from my lips, the faint light in Lucien’s eyes snuffed out like a candle in a storm.

It was as if I had torn open his most forbidden wound. His face darkened instantly. With a violent c***k, his utensils slammed onto the table, splattering sauce across the surface.

“Shut your mouth!” he snarled, surging upright with eyes like frozen daggers. “Get out.”