Naked?? Ken's thought spiral went from a frantic spin to a total crash.
Lucien's physique didn't just look built; it looked forged in the heart of a dying star. He was a statue carved from living, dark granite, with a chest that was broad and impossibly deep—a dark shield that looked capable of repelling any blow. His abs were defined with a geometric precision that bordered on the supernatural; six hard, sculpted ridges of muscle that caught the faint white light of the room like a landscape of shadows.
The strength wasn't hidden behind a layer of softness. It was raw and undeniable. It was there in the thick columns of his arms, where muscles were stacked upon muscles, each vein a dark river mapping out a cartography of lethal power. Water still clung to his pale skin, making him glisten like wet, polished black stone. One arm, as thick and solid as the obsidian furniture surrounding them, was raised, casually draping a black towel over a shoulder that looked wide enough to carry the literal weight of a world.
The contrast of the black knotted towel around his waist only emphasized the sheer, overwhelming volume of him. Standing 192cm tall, he filled the room, an apex predator who had just finished washing. Ken tried to blink, tried to look away, but his eyes were locked in a physiological trance.
He scrambled for his phone, his fingers trembling as he opened a random game. He stared at the moving pixels with such intensity it made his eyes water, desperately trying to focus on anything other than the man standing five feet away.
What the hell? Is he trying to seduce me? Ken thought, his skin breaking out in a cold, panicked sweat. He knows I just broke up. He knows I'm vulnerable. Is this a game to him?
Lucien, however, didn't even glance at Ken. His movements were clinical, devoid of any performative vanity. He moved to the mirror, cleaning the moisture from his face with a small cloth before heading toward the door with the same unbothered, predatory grace. He exited without a word, leaving the door slightly ajar.
...What was that all about? Ken exhaled, his chest finally expanding as the air returned to his lungs. He stared at the empty doorway, the scent of cedar and cold rain still lingering in the air.
A few miles away, in the Newman estate, a different kind of tension was brewing.
Leonard and Sara Newman sat at opposite ends of their long, polished dining table. Leonard—Mikael's father—was focused on his phone, his thumb flicking through global market trends. Sara sat perfectly upright, her gaze sharp enough to draw blood. The only sound in the room was the rhythmic, hypnotic clink-clink-clink of her silver spoon stirring a glass of expensive red wine.
"Do you have anything to say, Sara?" Leonard asked, not looking up. "Or are you going to stir that until the glass breaks?"
"Well, since you've barely been home, I wondered if you cared to know how your legacy has been faring," Sara replied, her voice a low, dangerous purr.
"Legacy? You mean Mikael?"
"Yes. He finally left that boy," Sara said, her stirring slowing down. "But now he is back with that wretched girl."
"Wretched girl? Who?" Leonard finally dropped his phone onto the table, his interest piqued.
"Don't tell me you forgot the girl your son was so obsessed with that it nearly cost us our reputation. The one whose parents you paid a fortune to disappear with their daughter six years ago."
Leonard took off his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Oh... right. The blonde. What was her name again?"
"Emily. Emily Jacob," Sara spat. "She somehow crawled her way back, and they currently live directly across from this building."
Leonard stared at her in genuine shock. "In this neighborhood? How was she able to get an apartment here? Her family was bankrupt when they left."
"According to the information I gathered, she is being sponsored by Luther Corp. They are responsible for her placement here—something about a scholarship representative program," Sara said, her eyes narrowing.
"Is this a joke?" Leonard asked.
"Do I look like I make jokes, Leonard?"
Leonard leaned back, his face pale. "This... this can't be a coincidence. How did a girl like that get in contact with Luther Corp? And more importantly, why would the biggest company in the world want her positioned right under our noses?"
"I don't know, but whatever it is, we can't allow it," Sara countered.
Leonard remained silent for a long moment, staring out the window at the distant city lights. Finally, he put his glasses back on. "You know you can't do anything about it, Sara. Luther Corp is the apex. Their influence stretches across every continent. We don't have the assets to compete with them. If they want her there, she stays there."
"I can't let my son mingle with filth! She's leaching off him again, and he's too blind to see it!"
"Sara, listen to me," Leonard said, his voice dropping to a stern warning. "Your options are limited. Either he dates a boy or he dates this girl. At this point, their financial status is irrelevant. You should be happy he picked a woman. At least we can secure a blood heir. Don't push him, Sara. We can't afford for him to run back to that boy and get engaged. That would be a PR nightmare we can't fix."
Sara looked at her husband, then down at the wine she had been stirring. The realization was bitter. She had to settle for a girl she hated or risk the end of the Newman line.
"Fine!" she scoffed, though her eyes remained cold. The Newmans were wealthy, but compared to the shadow cast by Luther Corp, they were mere ants.
"And besides," Leonard added, "our next biggest launch is coming up. We need Luther Corp's logistical support for the global rollout. If we get on their bad side now, we could lose over a billion dollars in projected revenue. Do not mess this up. It is the most important deal in the history of this company."
Sara stared at her wine. Her hands were tied. The "Iron Lady" of the Newman family had been silenced by a power she couldn't even see.
While his parents discussed his future like a business transaction, Mikael had slipped out of the house. Across the street, Emily had done the same. They walked through the quiet, gated neighborhood under the silver glow of a full moon.
"Isn't it beautiful?" Emily said, her eyes fixed on the moon.
"Yeah... like the old times," Mikael whispered. He reached out, his fingers brushing against hers, trying to find the familiar warmth he had craved for six years.
But the moment he touched her, Emily pulled away.
She looked at him with a profound sadness. They kept walking, but the silence between them grew cold and heavy, like ghosts wandering through a graveyard of their own memories.
"Mikael," Emily finally said, breaking the quiet. "I know...."
"It's fine," Mikael interrupted quickly. "I shouldn't have tried that without your permission. It was insensitive of me."
"No... it's not that. I don't mind the touch, but..." Emily paused, her breath hitching.
"But what, Emily? I have waited so long for this! For you! But you feel a thousand miles away. What's wrong?"
She stopped walking. Mikael took two steps forward before realizing she had halted. He turned back to her, looking like a lost, desperate puppy.
"Mikael, I love you. I always have, and I always will," Emily said, her voice dropping to a painful whisper. "But you're in a relationship. These past few weeks have been a dream, and you're as amazing as I remembered... but this is a betrayal to Ken. As long as you are with him, I can't have you. I won't even try."
Mikael stepped closer, reaching for her again. "Emily—"
"No! He was the only person who was kind to me on my first day. Even when he found out about us, he never treated me with anything but respect. It would be cruel of me to take his boyfriend behind his back. I can't do this, Mikael. I won't be that person."
She turned to leave, her heart breaking all over again. But Mikael's next three words stopped her dead in her tracks.
"We broke up."