The wind up here never played nice. It danced cruelly, snapping the edges of my navy button shirt as I stood atop the Eiffel Tower, hands buried deep in my pockets, surveying the glowing arteries of Paris beneath me. Golden light spilled through everg avenue while the city thrummed. Still active and busy.
It was only a matter of time before I had all of Paris.My fingers tightened slightly around the phone in my pocket.
I had tried calling Chloe but the call immediately dropped. Alya might've been the next best, even though I wanted them both but she was elbows deep in edits for her latest exposé, probably chasing her own headlines. That left me with my backup team, Max and Kagami.
Max had the technical finesse for what I needed. Kagami had the money. The kind of money that opened burned bridges clean without smoke.
I just had to hope neither of them were as busy as the others.
—
Crossing a rain streaked boulevard, I found myself facing a behemoth of a building: glass wrapped in shining black steel, like a blade polished to reflect the world it intended to slice through. The Ren Center or more a ripoff of a building from it
I flicked up my phone.
"Kendo Chat" was still open. Adrien, Kagami and I. in this chat and I was currently conversing with Kagami about meeting up.
She had refused. Again. Her texts formal, but stubborn. Probably her mother. But I knew Kagami. She caved under social pressure like a glacier under pollutants.
She replied five minutes ago.
"Fine. Fifteen minutes. Lobby."
I stepped up to the monolithic front doors, easily seven feet tall, and was promptly flanked by two guards in matte black suits.
"State your business," one of them said, not quite rude, but not exactly Parisian hospitality either.
"Meeting with Kagami Tsurugi. She knows."
A pause. One guard tapped his earpiece. Muffled chatter. Then a nod. I was buzzed in.
The lobby was the kind of cold elegance that whispered money. Black marble floors, white orchids suspended in glass cylinders, a single koi pond set beneath a transparent floor segmen in the center. Two elevators gleamed at the back, like bullet casings. Okay maybe not a whisper
And seconds later there she was.
Not Kagami. Her mother.
Tomoe Tsurugi was standing with the posture of a fencer mid-parry: back straight, chin slightly lifted, eyes sharp as polished obsidian covered by shades. Her hair was slicked back into a bun, her black coat stitched with crimson lines that looked almost ceremonial.
I hope I didn't interrupt something or I might be cooked.
"You are Luka Couffaine."
Not a question. But I answered anyways
"I am."
Her eyes flicked up and down, calculating, cautious.
"You missed your school practice."
"Had more important things to do."
"You've been hanging around Kagami too much lately. That concerns me."
Well that was blunt.
"She agreed to meet."
"Yes, after refusing multiple times. I've seen the exchange."
Fu– Of course she had. The dragon didn't let anything slither past unnoticed.
"And those things include requesting an audience with my daughter without clearing it through me first?"
I didn't blink. "I didn't come to court her, if that's what you're implying. This is a business proposal."
"You think I let just anyone pitch business to my heir?"
"I think you value leverage and long term gains. What I have has both."
"Explain." She said letting a slight frustration slip at my vagueness
"Not here. But I'm not here to waste her time. Or yours. If you're half as ruthless as your portfolio suggests, then you already know some investments aren't measured in quarterly returns. Or money."
Tomoe watched me, long and still. The silence dragged like a blade over whetstone.
Then she stepped aside.
"Five minutes. At the desk. But if I here any sly words come from your tongue, consider it gone."
She turned, heels clicking like punctuation, and disappeared through a security door.
Kagami emerged from a hallway behind the elevators, her face tight with something between worry and irritation.
"You're lucky she didn't have you escorted out."
I shrugged, sliding into the leather bench by the curved front desk.
"She likes me."
Kagami scoffed, but took a seat beside me anyway.
"You said it was urgent."
I nodded. "You still have access to that emergency discretionary account your mother set up right?"
She narrowed her eyes. "Yes, but it's for--"
"Travel, gear, equipment. All approved expenses if we're acting under a competitive or civic context."
"And this is what?"
"A civic mission."
She just looked at me with a head tilt.
"You want the truth or the polished version?"
She hesitated. "Truth."
"There's this auction happening there. Some collector got their hands on something weird—old, undocumented, and way too familiar. Max and I want to get eyes on it before it vanishes again."
"And you want me to bankroll your spontaneous relic adventure?"
"Well, when you say it like that, it sounds way less noble. But yeah. Short flight, light crew, no frills or vacation. Just enough to cover the jump and some gear."
She folded her arms. "So you and Max are chasing mysterious antiques now?"
"It's more like... strategic historical acquisitions. For safety."
She stared at me. Then exhaled.
"So that's a yes?"
"It's a maybe. I still have to convince her. This is a lot more than usual."
"Let me try first."
"She doesn't do favors."
"Then I'll give her something better."
She left me at the desk, gliding toward the security corridor. Five tense minutes passed. Then Tomoe returned alone, walking slowly.
She stood across from me, one hand on the sleek counter.
"You believe you can succeed."
"With effort of course."
She tapped the counter lightly. A receptionist appeared. She leaned in, whispered something, and the woman nodded briskly before disappearing.
"You will need to account for every cent."
"Of course."
"If my daughter is harmed--"
"She won't be. I swear."
"If this becomes political--"
"It always is. But we're not the ones playing pai sho."
Something flickered in her expression. A sliver of a smile? No. Just respect.
"You have 48 hours. The first transfer will be small. Prove it's justified."
I stood and gave a slight bow waiting to be allowed out.
Tomoe stepped away, her back to me, but her voice carried.
"I see more of myself in you than I'd like. Don't waste that."
–
As the glass doors hissed open behind me, and the cool air hit my face again, I knew one thing for certain:
Paris wouldn't know what hit it.
Not until it was already done.