The sun barely touched the skyline when I walked through the revolving doors of Westbrooke Industries.
A different kind of stillness hung in the air.
Like the calm before a storm.
The lobby was quiet, but the tension in my chest hadn't lessened. Not after that message. Not after his reply. Because "You're the only one who can survive this" was more than a warning—it was an initiation.
And whether I was ready or not, I'd already stepped into the fire.
I just hadn't realized how hot it could burn.
---
The elevator doors opened on the executive floor with a soft chime, and I stepped into the hallway as if into a lion's den.
Lucien's office door was already open.
He was waiting.
Of course he was.
He sat at his desk, immaculately dressed, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened—like he had all the time in the world to destroy you slowly. His eyes flicked up the moment I walked in, and a slow, dangerous smile curved his lips.
"I was wondering how long it would take you to come."
"I didn't know I was summoned," I replied, folding my arms.
His smile widened. "You weren't. That's what makes it more interesting."
I hated how easily he disarmed me.
With a glance. With a word.
I walked in, shut the door behind me, and said the only thing that had haunted me since last night.
"Someone's watching me."
His jaw tensed. Slightly. Barely. But I noticed.
"Show me," he said.
I took out my phone, pulled up the message, and handed it to him.
He read it once.
Then twice.
Then handed the phone back to me with a look I couldn't read.
"I'll take care of it."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you're getting."
"Lucien—"
He was on his feet before I could say anything else, moving toward me with the kind of calm that made my blood run cold.
His fingers brushed a strand of hair behind my ear.
"They've made a mistake," he said softly. "They think you're alone."
My breath hitched. "And I'm not?"
He leaned in until his mouth was inches from mine.
"No. You're mine."
---
He pulled back before I could respond, turned, and walked to the massive window behind his desk.
The silence stretched.
I hated when he did this—gave me just enough and then pulled away like I wouldn't notice the power play. But I did. Every time.
"You shouldn't have sent the bracelet," I said.
He didn't look at me. "Did you wear it?"
"…Yes."
"Then Ishould have."
His reflection in the glass looked more dangerous than the man himself. And that was saying something.
"You don't get to mark me and then keep secrets," I said quietly.
"You're already marked," he said without turning. "Every time you walk into a room with my name on your badge, you're mine."
"You think that makes me yours?"
"No," he said, voice silk over steel. "I know it does."
---
The tension was suffocating.
I couldn't breathe with him in the room.
And yet, I didn't want to leave.
I walked toward the window, standing beside him.
"Who sent the message?"
"I'm looking into it."
"Do you have enemies?"
He turned to me slowly, a glint of amusement in his dark eyes.
"Alina, I am the enemy."
A chill raced down my spine.
Because the worst part?
I believed him.
---
I tried to focus the rest of the day, but my mind kept spinning—on the message, on Lucien, on the look in his eyes when he said I wasn't alone.
Something was shifting. In him. In me.
And whatever this was—it wasn't just attraction anymore.
It was a choice.
A dangerous one.
---
Later that evening, I returned home to find a small box waiting at my door.
No note.
No card.
Just black velvet and silence.
I took it inside, placed it on the table, and opened it slowly.
A single key.
No explanation.
No address.
Just a symbol engraved into the gold: a serpent curled around a dagger.
And beneath the box, a folded slip of paper with five words written in slanted, elegant handwriting:
You'll know when it's time.
---
I stared at it for a long time, heart thudding loud in my ears.
Lucien had made his move.
The question was… would I play?
Because this wasn't just a game anymore.
This was war dressed in silk and secrets.
And I was already in too deep.