Lianna didn't return to the guest room Lucien had prepared for her.
Instead, she stood on the balcony overlooking the city—his city—lights stretching endlessly like veins of gold and shadow.
Three days.
That was how long Lucien Blackwood had given her before the city decided for her.
In her past life, she would have laughed bitterly at the illusion of choice.
Now?
Choice was a weapon.
Her phone vibrated.
Ethan:
We need to talk. Urgently.
Her jaw tightened.
Too late, she thought. The storm already started.
—
The next morning, Blackwood Group was under siege.
Not bullets—information.
A rival conglomerate launched a surprise audit. Government officials arrived unannounced. Stock prices dipped sharply within hours.
Lucien watched the numbers without expression.
"They're testing your reaction," his strategist said quietly. "They think Lianna is your weakness."
Lucien's lips curved faintly.
"Then they're about to learn what a mistake that is."
—
Lianna sat in a glass-walled meeting room when the attack reached her desk.
Anonymous emails. Threats disguised as concern. Offers of protection—from men who wanted her isolated.
She deleted them one by one.
Then a message appeared that made her breath hitch.
Unknown:
You don't belong on the throne. Step down—or watch your friend fall.
Attached was a blurred photo.
Ethan.
Handcuffed.
Alive—for now.
Her fingers went cold.
The door opened.
Lucien stepped inside.
He saw her face and knew instantly.
"They moved faster than I expected," he said calmly.
"They took Ethan," Lianna replied, voice steady despite the fire burning in her chest.
Lucien studied the photo.
"This is a declaration," he said. "They want to see who you choose."
Lianna looked up sharply. "This is my problem."
"No," Lucien corrected. "This is exactly why I made the offer."
He leaned forward, hands braced on the table.
"Accept," he said quietly. "And I bring the city down on them."
"And if I refuse?"
Lucien straightened.
"Then you fight alone."
The truth was brutal. Honest.
Lianna closed her eyes briefly.
In her past life, she had chosen love—and lost everything.
This time…
She opened her eyes.
"I'll save him," she said. "With or without your throne."
Lucien's gaze darkened—not anger.
Respect.
"Day one," he said softly. "You're already choosing."
She turned toward the door.
"Don't follow me."
Lucien didn't move.
"I already am," he replied.
Because the countdown had begun.
And by the end of three days—
Someone would kneel.