Caleb Arden had never felt so small in his life.
He'd faced political figures, mediated disputes, even stood beside his brother during high-stakes ceremonies — but this was different. This was personal. This was Lucian Thorne, and even the air outside the office felt like it was bracing itself for judgment.
The elevator chimed softly.
Jaxon Reed stood just outside as the doors opened, greeting him with the barest hint of neutrality. "Welcome, Mr. Arden. This way."
Caleb nodded stiffly, eyes lowered. "Thank you."
Then he was walking — each step steady, but his breath silent, shallow. Jaxon's pace was unhurried, but every hallway they passed looked less like part of a headquarters and more like the interior of a fortress.
Because it was.
The Thorne Tower wasn't designed to impress. It was designed to warn.
Finally, they stopped at the end of a corridor, where obsidian-black double doors loomed. Jaxon turned, expression unreadable.
"Before you go in," he said, "you should know that Lucian is… particular."
Caleb's hands twitched but he clenched them into stillness. "I understand."
"No," Jaxon countered quietly. "You don't."
The doors opened.
And Caleb stepped into the lion's den.
The office was cavernous.
A sweeping view of the city stretched behind a mountain of a desk. The room carried the scent of polished steel and burnt whiskey. Silence reigned.
Lucian Thorne stood near the window, back turned, hands tucked neatly into his pockets.
He didn't move.
Didn't turn.
Didn't acknowledge Caleb at all.
For a moment, the silence pressed down so hard Caleb could hear his pulse in his own ears.
He bowed. "Mr. Thorne."
Lucian didn't answer.
Caleb stayed bowed for three seconds.
Then five.
Then seven.
Finally, he straightened slowly. Still no acknowledgement.
Not even a glance.
"You're taller than I expected," Lucian said at last, voice flat. "That's perhaps the only surprise of this day."
Caleb forced a breath to steady. "I apologize for the circumstances—"
"Don't," Lucian snapped, cutting through the air like a blade.
He turned then — slowly — and Caleb understood what true dominance felt like. Grey eyes like winter steel. Liam features carved with aristocratic brutality. Rage simmering beneath the surface like oil waiting to ignite.
Lucian looked him over — from his modest posture to the slight tremble still running through his fingers where they were clasped in front of him.
Judgment was written on every breath of his being.
"A Beta," Lucian said, cold and unimpressed. "The Arden family must be truly desperate."
Caleb stiffened — it was the only response he allowed himself. No flinching. No reaction. Just… quiet resilience.
"We are securing the alliance as best we can," he said carefully.
Lucian stalked toward him, slow and smooth like a predator.
"No. You are an apology in a suit," he hissed. "A stand-in for the Omega who decided I wasn't worth the trouble."
Caleb lowered his eyes, the words cutting deeper than they should have.
Lucian continued, voice like a knife against bone. "You are not who I agreed to marry. Not who I prepared for."
He paused just inches from Caleb, staring down at him like something to be scraped off his shoe.
"I do not accept substitutes."
Caleb inhaled deeply.
He lifted his head. Slowly. Carefully.
"I'm not asking you to," he said gently.
Lucian's expression shifted — not with curiosity, but irritation at the Beta's audacity to even speak.
Before he could respond, the office doors swung open.
Three elders stepped in — men with silver hair and eyes like steel — members of the Mafia Alliance Council.
The highest authority in the neutral territories. The ones who enforced bonds between factions. They bowed briefly.
"Mr. Thorne," the eldest one greeted. "We understand the binding terms have changed."
Lucian didn't break eye contact with Caleb.
"They have," he said.
"And we understand," the second elder spoke, "that you have concerns."
Lucian's jaw tightened. "A Beta in place of an Omega is not a minor change. It alters the entire weight of the alliance."
"We agree," the third elder said. "However, the Arden family has fulfilled binding obligations. Replacement heirs are legally acceptable within clan law."
Lucian turned sharply.
"Legally," he said. "Not strategically. Not politically. Certainly not personally."
The first elder stepped forward. "We are here to confirm, publicly and officially, whether the engagement will proceed. Your answer cannot be delayed further," he added solemnly. "The decision impacts all allied territories."
For a moment — a single moment — Lucian looked away.
Not because of doubt.
But because of every eye on him.
He hated pressure.
He hated being cornered.
And this room — with Caleb standing small, silent, in the center — was a cage.
A beautifully built, strategically forged cage.
One that now held him too.
Caleb felt something shift.
A realization.
This wasn't just about him.
Lucian was also being trapped by this arrangement. He wasn't just angry. He was furious because someone dared to put a leash around his throat.
They were both losing freedom.
Lucian inhaled sharply and looked back to Caleb.
That hatred was still there.
But beneath it... there was calculation. There was movement behind those eyes.
And then—
Lucian spoke.
"Fine."
The word hit the room like a gunshot.
The elders stiffened.
Caleb didn't breathe.
Lucian took one step closer.
"I will marry you," he said quietly, voice like poison. "But don't expect a husband."
The silence that followed was absolute.
And in that silence, Caleb Arden realized something:
He'd been willing to die for this family.
Now, he'd have to learn how to live with the consequences.