After the storm of tension that had passed through the Vasiliev household, Vincent found himself in a quiet, dimly lit study with Lucian Vasiliev. The man who had once been just an imposing figure in his mind was now sitting across from him, his demeanor calm but serious, with an air of authority that was both familiar and different from the one Vincent had grown up with. There was something about Lucian that made Vincent feel at ease, something more genuine and grounded than his own father.
Lucian poured two glasses of amber whiskey, the rich liquid catching the low light, and handed one to Vincent. The clink of glass as it was passed was the only sound for a moment before Lucian raised his own glass slightly, waiting for Vincent to meet his eyes.
"Don't worry, this isn't some sort of test," Lucian said with a slight, knowing smile. "I've always been a man of directness, and I like to think I can read people well."
Vincent nodded, his fingers curling around the glass, feeling the warmth of the whiskey seeping into his palm. His nerves, which had been gnawing at him ever since the conversation with Anastasia's mother, settled just slightly at the quiet assurance in Lucian's voice. But beneath that, he knew that this conversation was far from ordinary.
Lucian leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving Vincent's face as if he were trying to gauge what lay beneath his cool exterior. After a long pause, he spoke again, his voice more measured now, almost tender in its weight.
"You know, Anastasia… She's not just my daughter," Lucian said slowly, his eyes softening as he spoke her name. "She's the fruit of my love with Valeria. She's everything I've ever wanted to protect, to cherish. She's the most important person in my life. But she's also… she's the hardest, the most unpredictable, the most dangerous and brilliant. Sometimes I think she's too much for anyone, even for me. But I'll never stop loving her. Not for anything."
Vincent didn't know what to say at first. He could feel the truth in Lucian's words—his protective nature, the weight of a father's love for his daughter. But there was more to it, something Vincent couldn't quite put his finger on. Instead, he simply nodded, acknowledging the depth of the man's feelings without speaking.
Lucian continued, his voice deepening with emotion. "She's my only child, Vincent. And I've always tried to protect her from the world. But I've also known… that one day she'd have to find someone. Someone who can stand by her side, someone who can hold her when she needs it, someone who understands her in ways that I can't. I'm not sure if anyone's been able to do that until now."
Lucian's gaze sharpened, his eyes locking onto Vincent's. "I see something in you, Vincent. Something that makes me believe you can protect her, love her, like no one else. And that means more to me than I can express."
Vincent felt a lump in his throat, his heart tightening. The weight of Lucian's words felt like a promise, one that Vincent wasn't sure he could fulfill. But he was ready to try. He had to.
Lucian set down his glass on the table, his hands clasping together, his gaze now softer but full of an undeniable intensity. "So, I have to ask you, Vincent… How much do you love my daughter?"
The question hung in the air like a challenge, and yet there was no judgment in Lucian's eyes—only a quiet, searching understanding. Vincent felt his heart race, knowing the gravity of the words. He took a breath, his mind clear for the first time in days.
"I love her more than anything," Vincent replied, his voice steady, unwavering. "I never thought I could love someone like this, but with her… it's different. I would do anything for her, Lucian. I would walk through fire if it meant keeping her safe, keeping her happy. I don't know if I can ever prove it enough, but I'm ready to try."
Lucian studied him closely for a long moment, his expression unreadable. For a moment, Vincent wondered if his words had been enough. Then, Lucian's lips curled into the faintest of smiles, one that was filled with both approval and something else—a quiet respect.
"That's exactly what I needed to hear," Lucian said, his voice softening again, the tension in the room lifting slightly. "You've proven a lot already, Vincent. You understand her, maybe better than anyone else ever has. And that means more to me than you can imagine. But you have to understand something else too."
Lucian leaned forward slightly, his eyes piercing. "Anastasia isn't just a girl to be loved. She's a force. A force of nature. She'll test you. She'll push you to your limits. She'll fight you. She'll break you down. But if you love her, if you can withstand it all, you'll see that she's worth every ounce of pain, every moment of doubt. She's my daughter, and I'll always fight for her. But you, Vincent…" Lucian paused, his expression softening once more. "I'm trusting you to protect her. To stand by her."
Vincent's throat tightened. The weight of what Lucian was asking felt immense, yet Vincent was certain of one thing—there was nothing in this world that would make him back down from this.
"I won't fail her," Vincent said, his voice low and determined.
Lucian's eyes gleamed with something that might have been approval or perhaps pride. "I believe you, Vincent."
Lucian's tone shifted slightly, almost casual, as he leaned back in his chair, as if easing the intensity of the conversation. "You know, I don't have a son. Anastasia is my only child. But in you… I feel like I have a son too. You've proven yourself to me more than I could've expected. You're not just a man I'll trust with my daughter's heart—you're someone I can see standing by her side for the rest of her life. That's more than I could've asked for."
Vincent's chest tightened. The words were heavier than he could've imagined, and the strange, unfamiliar feeling of being accepted by Lucian—a man who had lived a life Vincent could never truly understand—settled deep inside him.
"My own father…" Vincent murmured, his voice a touch quieter now. "He's never been like this. He's never shown affection, never cared about who I really am. He only cares about what I can do for him. For the family legacy. But with you, Lucian... you make me feel like I belong. You make me feel like I'm more than just the heir to someone else's empire."
Lucian's gaze softened further, his hand resting on the table in a gesture that was almost fatherly. "I know what it feels like to be treated as a tool, Vincent. To be seen as nothing more than a future heir, not as a person. You don't have to worry about that with me. I see you for who you are, not just for what you might become."
Vincent's throat thickened, and he could feel his heart swell with gratitude, though he wasn't sure how to express it. Lucian was the first person to truly make him feel seen.
"You're welcome here, Vincent," Lucian said, his voice warm now. "And you'll always have a place in this family. Don't forget that."
The two of them raised their glasses in unison. For the first time in a long while, Vincent felt like he was part of something that mattered. Like he wasn't just a lone figure struggling to prove himself, but someone who had found a place where he belonged.
"To family," Lucian said, his eyes gleaming with something deeper, something that only a father could understand.
Vincent clinked his glass with Lucian's. "To family," he echoed, the words carrying a weight he hadn't known until now.