"They what?"
Lucien's jaw dropped, genuine shock flashing across his face. He didn't even bother to hide it from Ben.
"Yes… They've already overthrown your brother," Ben said casually, as if announcing the weather.
Lucien stared at him in disbelief. That wasn't supposed to happen, not this fast.
He had planned to wait until Vincent got comfortable on the throne, only to watch him flounder when reality hit him in the face.
But this?
"Is my brother actually that dumb?"
He pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated.
Vincent had been right there when Lucien rose to power. He should've known why the Serpent didn't go after some capos with brute force.
Guns and violence meant nothing to men like them. They were too strong, too clever, and far too loyal to the famiglia for that to work.
The reason they didn't back Lucien at first had just been a test.
That's why he never moved against them. Lucien hadn't spelled it out to Vincent… but honestly, wasn't it obvious?
"Holy shit… So many things are going off-script."
He sighed. Still, the result wasn't entirely bad.
He shouldn't have expected his grandfather to act like a reasonable man and wait patiently—not with that temper—especially since he'd been against the plan from the start.
Well, Lucien had thought it was stupid too. But it made for a nice vacation and some entertainment, at least.
Still, he knew Vincent wouldn't stop there. His brother always had a backup plan. And it likely involved Diablo.
Mikhail wasn't over him. The man would absolutely try to take Lucien back, no matter how insane the method.
Which meant he needed Vincent to remain the puppet Don of Lucero while he focused on Lunox.
He knew Diablo and Dominus couldn't handle both Luceros and Lunox's power at once.
Lucien turned to Ben, eyes sharp.
"Contact Obscura. Tell him to keep a close eye on Dominus and Scarlet Diablo. He'll know what to do."
Ben nodded and slipped out of the room, leaving Lucien alone. He let out a long breath and leaned back against the headboard.
His lower body still ached, but at least he didn't feel sticky anymore, someone must have cleaned him up while he slept.
He noticed a tracking device clamped around his ankle, standard house arrest gear.
He'd already ensured the room was free of any CCTV or surveillance, though outside the walls were practically covered with cameras.
Maybe the alphas hated being watched when doing degenerate and depraved things.
Either way, he wasn't complaining. At least he had a little privacy left.
The room smelled faintly of the ocean, the sound of distant seagulls drifting in from the open balcony. A soft breeze moved the curtains in lazy waves.
Everything inside was ivory white—walls, furniture, even the delicate moulding—all in elegant European traditional style.
It was a stark contrast to Edmund's minimalist mansion, where black and gold dominated sleek Art Deco lines.
His place had always been efficient, cold, like a showroom nobody lived in.
But this?
This was meticulously designed. The kind of interior Lucien was intimately familiar with.
"The more I think about it, the creepier he gets…" he muttered under his breath.
Even so, the room felt warm. Sunlight spilled through the windows, wrapping him in a golden cocoon.
Exhaustion pulled at him—after all, he'd been through… quite a lot earlier—and he drifted off without much resistance.
In the hazy edges of sleep, he heard children's voices calling his name.
Laughter in a sunny clearing. Three of them running together, carefree, as if nothing bad could ever touch their world.
"Lucien…"
"Do you still want to play with us?"
"Lucien, don't leave us."
A sharp sting bloomed across his cheek. Someone was slapping him.
"Lucien, wake up!"
Lucien jolted awake, blinking at the ceiling. Two figures hovered over him. He tried to sit up, but a firm hand pressed against his back.
"Oh, finally, Sleeping Beauty rises. Do you know how long you've been out? We patiently waited to play with you!"
The silver-haired man frowned down at him, voice sharp with impatience.
"Shhh. He might still be tired, let him be," said the other, his long black hair tied neatly behind him.
Gentle golden eyes softened his features, reminding Lucien of sunlit afternoons.
The Twinster.
Lucien's thoughts went somewhere entirely less innocent.
'Play? Are they about to jump me? Damn it, I can't handle that right now… Should I fake being unconscious?'
Silas smiled knowingly, as if he'd read his mind.
"Don't even think about going back to sleep. You haven't eaten since yesterday."
Lucien groaned and pushed himself upright. "I know the two of you are dying to 'play,' but if you try it, I'll split in half. So don't."
Adrian crossed his arms, unimpressed. "Oh? So you can fight back."
Lucien snorted. "Do you think shaving a lion's mane turns it into a house cat?"
He tilted his head, eyes glinting. "No? Then don't mistake me for one. Strip me of my title, and I'm still me. I can take you down right here, right now."
His voice dropped, firm and unyielding. "No means no."
Even Edmund respected that line. Diablo didn't but that was because he was insane.
Adrian's eyebrows shot up in surprise, while Silas burst out laughing and clapped him on the shoulder.
"He got you good."
"Shut up!"
Adrian slapped Silas's hand away. The two of them looked more like squabbling boys than dangerous alphas for a moment.
Lucien wasn't in the mood to entertain their squabbles. His stomach growled.
"Anyway, I'm hungry. Bring my lunch. Here."
He wasn't in the mood for their back-and-forth; hunger gnawed at him, and he knew neither Edmund nor the twins were the type to starve him just to keep him trapped for their amusement.
"It's dinner." Silas corrected him.
Adrian's grin turned mischievous. "Hah! You can't get up because the young master fucked you good, huh?"
Lucien's fingers clenched around the blanket covering his lower body. He wasn't wrong, but that didn't mean Adrian had to say it. Especially with that smug face.
"True," Lucien admitted flatly. "So now bring me my food."