Chapter 87

Scarlett Back inside the room where had just dragged me off again, he slammed the door shut that the echo vibrated through the walls while he was still carrying me on his arms, walking towards his king bed size and gently put me on it, setting me down more gentleness than his anger suggested. His hand lingered at my wrists, as though he feared if he let go, I would run away from him again—which he thinks, but in fact, I really didn’t. “Are you angry with me, Lucien?” I asked the most obvious thing, looking at his expression. He let out a heavy sigh, kneeling before me. “Who wouldn’t when you don’t take your pain seriously, Scarlett?” I blinked at him. “I am not. I take myself seriously. I am really fine.” “Fine? You were paler than the sheet of paper, Scarlett! Do you have any idea what it does to me to watch you burn yourself out like this?” His voice was sharp, but his eyes were filled with pleas and worries. My throat tightened. I tried to turn my face away, but his hands rose, cupp