The champagne hadn't even warmed in the glasses before Alaric Stark decided the evening needed a confrontation. The sight of Lucian standing on the same yacht, breathing the same air as reputable people, was apparently more than his constitution could bear.
"You waltzed your way in here by threatening who, exactly? Mr. Throne?" Alaric's voice carried that particular brand of arrogance that came with old money and a short temper. "There are people on this yacht far more powerful than you, and I can have you thrown off with a snap of my fingers if you don't leave on your own."
"Uncle, let's dial it down a notch," Adrian interjected, stepping closer. "We don't want to create a scene."
But the scene had already been created, fully furnished and decorated, the moment Lucian had stepped onto the yacht and Alaric had demanded he leave because they couldn't possibly share space with a criminal. Guests were now turning in their direction like sunflowers toward a very uncomfortable sun.
Lucian regarded Alaric with the kind of patience one normally reserved for a toddler mid-tantrum, then decided the man wasn't worth even that. "Alaric, this is a place of business. The people here are considerably more serious than the ones in your living room."
The words landed like a slap delivered with a smile, and Alaric's expression curdled.
"Who do you think you are, speaking to him like that?" Mr. Smith stepped forward, his gold suit catching the light as if it too were offended. "That's Alaric Stark. Whatever your name is, he can bankrupt you with a single phone call."
A murmur of agreement rippled through the nearby guests. Lucian might have been charming, might have shot up the polls to tie with Adrian at the very top, but he had just been openly rude to a Stark, and most people in this room knew which side of that equation was safer to stand on.
"Do you want to tell them who you are?" Alaric's voice had found a new, smug edge. "Senator Lydia is here. Let's see how brave you feel then."
Lucian's mouth curved into a grin as his eyes swept the crowd, searching, until they landed on the senator. "Senator Lydia," he called out, his voice carrying easily across the sudden hush. "Alaric would like to tell you who I am."
A collective gasp went through the guests. The audacity of it was almost impressive.
Lucian bit his lip, folded his arms across his chest, and leaned back slightly, daring Alaric with every relaxed line of his body to do his absolute worst.
Senator Lydia rose from her table and made her way forward, her expression caught somewhere between curiosity and the practiced neutrality of a career politician.
"Ah, so you are Senator Lydia." Lucian placed a hand on his chest in a gesture of genuine-seeming respect. "I've lived in this city my entire life and somehow never knew what you looked like. My sincere apology, ma'am."
Senator Lydia smiled, polite and measured, and extended her hand. She was clearly smitten despite herself, and though she was a public figure who ought to have known better, she had to actively remind herself to behave.
"Alaric here wants to introduce me properly," Lucian said.
Alaric stared at him with naked disbelief. "You really have no shame, do you?"
The boy, Alaric thought bitterly, was a perfect echo of his uncle—the same arrogance, the same infuriating smugness. He was Lucian Stark reborn in the worst possible way. But this Lucian was a criminal with blood on his hands, and he had no place on this yacht where legitimate business was being done.
"Mr. Stark," Senator Lydia interjected, her tone diplomatic, "can we all be adults here? He's just a young man."
"No," Alaric said, his voice rising. "He's not just a young man. He's a criminal. He is none other than Lucian Throne!"
The name hit the crowd like a stone dropped into still water. Guests gasped, and several took an instinctive step backward. Then the murmuring began, fracturing in a dozen directions at once.
"He's incredible!"
"Wait, this is the Lucian Throne I've heard about?"
"Someone should get Mr. Throne to throw him out—"
"No, you idiot, did you not hear the name?"
The guests were split, a cocktail of fear, fascination, and confusion swirling through the room. Lucian, for his part, seemed to be enjoying every single second of it.
"Are you certain, Alaric?" Senator Lydia asked, studying Lucian with fresh eyes. "This young man doesn't look much like a criminal."
Star had been seated at a nearby table, watching the confrontation unfold, when her attention snagged on something else entirely: Tiffany, standing so close to Adrian that she looked like she was trying to absorb him through osmosis.
A slow, mischievous smile spread across Star's face. She rose and glided over.
"Did you just try to have Adrian killed?" she whispered directly into Tiffany's ear.
The color drained from Tiffany's face so fast it was almost theatrical. Her eyes darted to Adrian, who was still glaring at Lucian for reasons she didn't understand, then back to Star.
"What?" The word came out half-strangled. "What are you talking about?"
"You really stooped this low because you love Adrian?" Star's voice was calm, curious even, but her eyes were unblinking.
"I have no idea what you're referring to! Why on earth would I threaten to kill Adrian?" Tiffany's whisper was fraying at the edges.
Star watched her. Really watched her, the way someone watches a poker player deciding whether to fold or bluff.
Tiffany, clearly mistaking the silence for a negotiation, leaned in with an expression of generous reasonableness. "Look, I told people you're mentally unstable—but nobody knows it's you, because you didn't walk in with Adrian. So you're perfectly safe."
She delivered this as if she were offering Star a gift, as if publicly branding another woman unstable was simply a small, practical arrangement and nothing to get emotional about. Star's brow furrowed so deeply it nearly creased into a permanent knot.
Across the room, Maria had pulled Adrian aside. "Are you prepared for your meeting with Mr. Throne?"
Adrian finally tore his gaze away from Lucian and turned to his mother, his expression softening. "I am, actually. He just added my project to the list of nominations he's considering for partnership tonight."
"Just now?" Maria asked, and something wary flickered behind her eyes.
"Yeah, it surprised me too. He nominated projects days ago and mine was excluded, but tonight I got a notification that he'd added it. It's a good thing—it makes my pitch easier." Adrian paused, noticing a man staring at him from across the room with unsettling intensity. "Who is your friend, by the way?"
Maria followed his gaze to Doctor, and she had to physically fight the urge to swallow hard. "Just someone from that seminar I attended in Italy," she said, the lie sliding out smoothly despite her suddenly racing pulse.
"Peter, call Mr. Throne right now!" Alaric's voice boomed across the yacht. "This criminal has to go!"
Peter stood frozen, scratching the back of his head with the nervous energy of a man who would very much like to be anywhere else on earth. His heart was hammering against his ribs.
Senator Lydia, perhaps tired of the chaos, spoke up. "Peter, the event is about to start. If people are uncomfortable having a rumored criminal among them, then let's have Mr. Throne address it directly."
Hesitation rippled through the crowd. Lucian Throne was, by reputation, a dangerous man. Nobody quite knew what to expect.
Lucian looked at Peter, who was now sweating enough to water a small plant, and Peter looked back at him with the desperate, pleading eyes of a man silently screaming for instructions.
"Why are you looking at him?" Alaric demanded. "Are you afraid of him? He's not going to do anything. We're all here."
Lucian let out a long, tired sigh—the sigh of a man who had been patient far longer than anyone deserved. "Can I get a microphone, please?"
"A microphone for what?" Alaric snapped.
"Peter?"
The single word was spoken in a deeper voice now, and something in its tone made the entire room pause. Heads turned toward Peter in dawning confusion.
Peter walked to the stage, where a single golden round table held a microphone. He picked it up with the careful grip of a man holding something far heavier than plastic and metal.
"Good evening, everyone," he began. "I didn't expect the night to take this particular turn, and I have to say, this is very awkward."
A few uncertain chuckles rippled through the room.
"When Mr. Throne and I planned this event, the idea was simple: arrive, introduce him, let you all engage, and at the end he'd announce the projects he was interested in partnering with. Then we'd celebrate. That was the whole agenda." Peter paused, scanning the crowd. "I understand that Crestfall doesn't know who Mr. Throne is. There may be a lot of Throne names floating around out there. But honestly, everyone, come on."
A wave of gasps rolled through the guests as realization began to dawn, one face after another.
"Mr. Throne, everyone," Peter said, and handed the microphone to Lucian, whose grin stretched wide enough to swallow the room.
"You all know the name Lucian Throne," he began, his voice now carrying effortlessly, "but not the CEO of Throne Enterprise?"
Star sat frozen in her seat, her mind reeling. This was the boy she had grown up with, the one who had been there for her through everything, always present, never too busy. When had he built an entire empire? He used to disappear from the city sometimes, telling her it was work, and she'd never thought to question it further. But a whole company? A whole billionaire enterprise? And he'd hidden it from her, completely. Had he not trusted her? The questions piled up so fast her head began to ache.
Adrian was staring at Lucian with an entirely different kind of confusion now sharpening into suspicion. His mind switched to when he saw a phone call of Throne Enterprise on Lucian's business phone that Star used to track him down at B1 Highway that night.
Lucian Throne was Mr. Throne. The CEO who had refused to partner with him for months. And now, suddenly, tonight, AUDO had been added to the nomination list. Why? What had changed? The timing was too convenient, and with Lucian involved, convenience usually wore a mask.
Adrian knew Lucian couldn't stand him, and the sudden interest in his project felt less like an opportunity and more like the opening move of a game he hadn't agreed to play. But he needed Throne Enterprise. There was no other company in the world better at technology and electronics, and AUDO couldn't reach its full potential without them.
"I always thought Crestfall people weren't particularly intelligent," Lucian said, letting the words hang in the air just long enough to sting, "but really now." He turned to Alaric with the satisfied expression of a man who had been handed exactly what he wanted. "Aren't we all, Alaric?"
He winked at Adrian.
And then his eyes moved, slowly and deliberately, through the crowd until they found Maria. He let his gaze linger on her for a single, heavy second—this woman who had played the part of the loving, humble, grieving mother, only to abandon him and live happily ever after with her husband and her child. She had no idea what was waiting for her. None of them did.