004: The Truth and the Trade

ELARA'S POV 

The air crackled with a silence that felt heavy enough to crush me. Lucian's question, Why is the death of your family in the files of mine? hung in the air, a final, lethal accusation.

"Answer me!" Lucian demanded, his voice low, a command that allowed no resistance.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to look past the coldness in his eyes. I saw a flicker of something else. Not guilt, but maybe genuine confusion, or perhaps just cold annoyance at being cornered by the help he clearly underestimated.

"You already know the answer," I finally managed, my voice raw. "Your parents. The masks. The fire. No one is that dumb"

Lucian straightened up, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn't deny it. He didn't flinch. "Both parties as stated in the file were involved in high-stakes acquisition, Elara. They take things. Sometimes the removal process goes sideways. Why are you here? Are you a private investigator?"

"No." I shook my head fiercely. "I'm a survivor. They burned my home and killed my parents when I was five. I'm here because I was assigned, and then you brought me back for some weird reason I know nothing about."

A small, almost subtle tremor ran through his hand, gripping his own arm tighter. The bluntness of the truth had landed, heavy and ugly, between us.

"And what was your plan?" he challenged, his eyes narrowed cornering me to the wall. "To find a dusty old folder and call the police? My father runs half of this city, Elara. He is the police."

"Well you are wrong. My plan was to understand," I countered, desperation fueling my courage. "To know why. To see the faces of the people who did it."

Lucian walked slowly around the desk, stopping right in front of me. He was close enough now that I could feel the residual coldness radiating off his suit.

"You've seen the face of their son," he said quietly in a way that annoyed and unnerved me at the same time. "Does that help?"

I looked up at him, studying the elegant features, the vulnerable paleness. "You're nothing like them," I admitted, surprised by my own words. "You just... exist here. Like a prisoner waiting for redemption or his sentence."

That struck a nerve. His jaw clenched, momentarily dropping the mask of cold control. "I am their heir. I was raised for this empire, even if my body is a tad weak for the field."

"Then you know exactly what they did."

"I know what the Raye name means," he corrected. "I don't know the details of every 'acquisition' my parents made twenty years ago. But I know this: you being here is a threat. Not to me, but to them and you could cease to exist in the blink of an eye."

He leaned in again, and the scent of cologne and metal filled my senses. "Here is the trade, Elara. The only way you leave this house alive and get the answers you crave."

I waited, tense, my breathing shallow. He wasn't offering a truce; he was offering a contract. My heart screamed at me to refuse and to run away or elope but a part of me wanted to see it to the end.

"You keep working here," he said, his voice dropping to a low, seductive command. .

"You work for me. Not them. I will give you access. I will give you information. You'll see things, hear things. But in exchange, you will never speak to my parents about this file. You will never approach them. And when I need you to, you will act like my devoted, temporary aide."

He was offering me the very thing I couldn't get on my own: an inside view that kept me say from danger. But it came at the cost of trusting the son of my enemies.

"Why?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. "Why help me expose your family? Why not just call security and toss me out?"

Lucian looked away, scanning the rows of books, a profound sadness briefly flickering in his dark eyes. "My parents are dangerous. They see only assets and enemies. And right now, Elara, you are too dangerous to be an enemy. And I don't need another asset."

He looked back at me, his gaze locking with mine. "I need an anchor. And you, surprisingly, are the most honest person I've met in this house."

He was using me. I knew it. But the chance to finally find out the why was too strong, stronger than my sense of safety and reasoning. I needed to know the details of the 'Operation: Aerie.'

"What about you? You don't seem fine and your health seems to be hanging on a thin thread." I challenged, testing his honesty. "Does this put you in danger?"

He gave a dry smile. "Everything puts me in danger, Elara. Now, do we have a deal or would you rather do menial jobs and keep wondering why and what happened to your parents?"

I looked down at the file, at the words Voss Estate. My parents deserved the truth. This was the least I could do.

"Yes, Mr. Raye," I said, meeting his gaze. "We have a deal. What's my first task?"

He didn't look relieved, just intensely focused. He walked back to the door and unlocked it.

"My parents are having a private dinner tonight. They always leave a set of keys to the third-floor safe in the study before they go," he explained, his voice low and conspiratorial. "I need you to retrieve those keys and bring them to me. Immediately."

He was asking me to steal for him. My first task was a betrayal of my own moral code, and an act of spying on his parents. But if I was working for the enemy's son, I was finally inside the empire.

I just had to hope Lucian Raye’s secrets weren't like wild fire and I hope it does not burn me, too.