No Longer Yours to Break novel Chapter 12

Three years back, Lucian rolled into Southport.

He used to have an older brother–the golden boy, born to take over the Lyttelton legacy. Lucian? He was just the spoiled younger son, living easy with no pressure.

Then his brother got kidnapped and murdered at sixteen.

Everything changed. The whole family shattered. One night, they lost their son and their future.

Lucian snapped out of his bubble fast. He stepped into his brother’s shoes, took on the weight, and never looked back.

That same year, he tagged along with his dad on a business trip. Ended up drunk,

stumbling through Southport with a splitting headp. Ended up drunk,

Southport was still buzzing that night. Lucian had crashed on some random steps, letting the breeze cool him off while a guitar strummed somewhere nearby.

Nobody remembered it, but music had always been his first lové.

Then she sat down next to him. “Hey, you okay?”

He turned, surprised.

Under the streetlight, her eyes sparkled like pearls. She smiled. “That’s my friend playing. He’s got a show next month but freaks out on stage. He’s out here practicing. Wanna join?”

It was cold that night. Lucian didn’t remember everything–just her eyes, the way they locked on his, and how he’d blushed and nodded, slow and awkward.

For a little while, he felt like himself again. Just a guy with a guitar and a laugh.

Later, when Pierre showed him a photo of that girl, Lucian swore fate had just handed him everything.

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“Mr. Lyttelton? Lucian?”

He blinked, snapping out of it. Zoe was waving a hand in front of his face, eyebrows

scrunched.

He gave a sheepish smile. “Sorry, zoned out. Is there anything bugging you? Or anything else you want added? I’ve got time before the wedding.”

Zoe shot him a weird look, voice edging on curious. “…Are you always this sweet to your arranged fiancées?”

The second it slipped out, she froze. Jealousy much? Her face lit up tomato red.

Lucian caught the flush on her cheeks, and something warm settled in his chest. His voice dropped, gentle. “No, Ms. Hertbert. Maybe you don’t remember me. But I said yes to this marriage because it was you. I planned all this… for you.”

“What?” Zoe blinked. Her mind was a blank. “You’re saying… you knew this was the kind of wedding I wanted? But I don’t remember ever telling anyone…”

Lucian just smiled and shook his head, silent.

A knock hit the door.

A delivery guy stood there, box in hand, insisting Zoe sign for it herself.

She and Lucian traded a look, then opened it together.

Right in the center sat the gemstone bangle–the same one Vicky had chucked into the pond.

Zoe froze.

Then her phone buzzed. A new text lit up the screen.

She read it, went pale, then grabbed Lucian’s sleeve.

“Help me trace this number–now!”

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