Rina's POV
Lucien didn't sit down.
That was the first thing I noticed.
He stood across from me, tall and unmoving, hands resting lightly on the back of the leather chair like he owned the room without ever claiming it. His dark suit was simple, not flashy, but everything about him screamed money, control, and patience. The kind of man who didn't rush because time always bent for him.
I stayed seated.
Not because I was afraid.
But because I refused to be the first one to move.
"You came back," I said, keeping my voice steady even though my heart was beating faster than I wanted it to. "I thought you said what you came to say."
Lucien's mouth curved into something that wasn't quite a smile.
"I said what I wanted you to hear," he replied calmly. "That's different."
I leaned back slightly, crossing my arms. "Then finish it."
His eyes flicked to my hands. To the faint tension in my shoulders. To the way I held myself like I was bracing for impact.
"You're learning," he said. "Most people hide their fear. You don't."
"I'm not afraid," I snapped.
Lucien tilted his head. "You're angry. That's better."
The silence stretched.
Outside the glass walls of the boardroom, the city moved like nothing in the world had changed. Cars passed. People laughed. Lives went on.
Mine had been burned to ash.
"Why are you really here?" I asked.
Lucien finally pulled out the chair and sat across from me, slow and deliberate. He folded his hands on the table, eyes never leaving my face.
"I'm here," he said, "because you want revenge."
My breath caught.
I laughed sharply, more defensive than amused. "That's a bold assumption."
"You buried yourself," he replied evenly. "People who do that aren't looking for peace."
I felt the words settle deep in my chest.
"I buried a name," I said. "Not a desire."
Lucien nodded once. "Exactly."
I stared at him. Really stared.
There was something unsettling about how calm he was. How sure. He wasn't guessing. He wasn't testing the waters.
He knew.
"Say what you came to say," I repeated.
Lucien leaned forward slightly. "I know what the Ashfords did to you."
My fingers curled into my palms.
"You don't," I said quietly.
"I do," he replied. "They broke you. Publicly. They took your child. They erased your worth. And when they were done, they threw you away."
My throat tightened.
I stood abruptly, the chair scraping back. "You don't get to say his name. You don't get to talk about my…"
"Sit down," Lucien said, not raising his voice.
There was no command in his tone.
Just certainty.
I hated that my body listened before my pride could stop it. I sat back down, my pulse roaring in my ears.
"You're not the only one they've destroyed," Lucien continued. "You're just the one who survived."
I swallowed. "So what? You collect broken people now?"
"No," he said. "I collect wolves."
I scoffed. "You think I'm a wolf?"
Lucien's gaze sharpened. "You're pretending to be prey."
The words hit harder than I expected.
"You fired Harold Whitmore without blinking," he went on. "You took control of the Vale board in less than six months. You erased Seraphina Cole like she never existed."
He paused.
"Prey doesn't do that."
I exhaled slowly. "Then what do you want?"
Lucien leaned back. "An alliance."
The word hung between us.
"Between us?" I asked.
"Yes."
"And why would I do that?" I challenged.
"Because you can't take them down alone," he said simply. "And because I can help you do it cleanly."
I shook my head. "Nothing about this is clean."
Lucien's lips curved again. "No. But it can be precise."
I studied him carefully. "What's your price?"
His eyes darkened just a little. "Honesty."
I laughed bitterly. "That's cheap for a man like you."
"It's expensive for someone like you," he countered.
I opened my mouth, then closed it again.
He wasn't wrong.
"You don't trust me," Lucien said.
"I don't trust anyone," I replied.
"Good," he said. "Neither do I."
The tension shifted. Changed shape.
"What exactly are you offering?" I asked.
Lucien's voice dropped. "Access. Information. Leverage. I know where the Ashfords hide their money. I know who covers for them. I know which secrets would ruin them if they ever saw daylight."
My heart pounded.
"And what do you get?" I asked.
Lucien didn't answer right away. He watched me like he was measuring something invisible.
"I get to watch them burn," he said finally.
A chill ran through me.
"You hate them," I said.
"I respect power," he corrected. "And I despise people who abuse it."
I let out a slow breath. "So you're not doing this for me."
"No," he agreed. "I'm doing it with you."
That was worse.
"And if I say no?" I asked.
Lucien shrugged. "Then you'll keep fighting alone. You'll win some battles. Lose others. And one day, they'll notice you're not as dead as they thought."
My stomach twisted.
"And then?" I whispered.
"And then they'll come for you again."
Silence.
I stared at the table. At my reflection in its polished surface. At the woman I had become.
Cold. Controlled. Scarred.
"What makes you think I won't become your enemy instead?" I asked quietly.
Lucien smiled fully this time. It was slow and dangerous.
"Because you already know," he said, "that I would be a terrible enemy to have."
I met his gaze.
"And an even worse ally," I said.
His smile widened. "Exactly."
I stood again, this time on my own terms. I walked to the window, looking out at the city I once thought had swallowed me whole.
"An alliance means shared blood," I said. "Shared blame."
"It means shared victory," Lucien replied.
I turned back to him. "And when this is over?"
Lucien's eyes held mine. "Then we'll see which of us survives the fire."
My pulse raced.
I thought of Julian's silence.
Of my mother-in-law's smile.
Of the grave with my name on it.
I walked back to the table.
Lucien stood as well.
We faced each other, two predators circling the same kill.
"You're dangerous," I said.
"So are you," he replied.
I took a breath.
Then I nodded.
"Yes, let's do this."