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CHAPTER FOUR — MY CHOICE
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2026-01-31 18:41:46Aria's POV
“You want to explain what I just heard?" His voice was soft and laced with danger as the atmosphere in the office became colder each passing second.
"Lucien…"
"You told her you would look at the papers." He took a step toward me as I saw the barely controlled rage in every line of his body. "You told him you missed him. That you were sorry for making him wait."
"I had to…"
"You had to what?" His voice rose slightly, real anger breaking through it. "String him along? Keep your options open? Make sure you have an escape route ready?"
"No! I'm trying to…"
"Trying to what, Aria?" He was right in front of me now and I could sense the pain underneath the anger. The feeling of betrayal running through his charming eyes. "This morning you told me you were done running, that you were done choosing them over me and not even six hours later, you're already making plans to leave with him!"
"That's not what I'm doing!"
"Then what ARE you doing?" He said as he grabbed my phone from where I'd left it on his desk and held it up. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks exactly like every other time you've manipulated me. You say what I want to hear, make me think maybe… just maybe you've changed, and then you go right back to him!"
His voice cracked on the last word as I saw his hand shake before he slammed the phone down on the desk.
"I can't do this anymore," he said, his voice was rough with emotion. "I can't keep watching you choose him, I can't keep hoping you'll wake up and see what he really is. What they both are."
"I do see it!" I said desperately. "Lucien, I see exactly what they are. That's why I'm playing along. I need them to think they're winning so I can…"
"So you can what?" he interrupted, his grey eyes blazing. "So you can turn the tables on them," He laughed harshly. "You expect me to believe that? When every single time I've let myself hope, you've proven it was a lie?"
"It's not a lie this time!"
"Prove it." He said as he moved even closer as I felt the heat of him, the barely leashed fury. "Prove to me right now that this isn't another manipulation, that you're not just playing a deeper game."
"I can't," I whispered. "Not with words. You won't believe anything I say."
"Then show me," he demanded. "Block them, delete their numbers and tell them you're done. Show me you're choosing me, Aria. Not just saying it. Show me."
I stared at him, my mind racing fast.
If I cut them off now, I would lose my chance for revenge. I would lose the only opportunity to make them pay for what they had done.
But if I didn't, I would lose Lucien's trust completely. That is If I even had any left to lose.
"I can't," I said again. "Not yet. I need to…"
"Get out." He said as he retreated and stepped away from me.
His words were quiet and final.
"What?"
"Get out of my office." His voice was empty now and cold. All the emotion drained away, leaving only that terrible, controlled calm. "We're done with this conversation."
"Lucien, please…"
"I said get out, Aria." He turned away from me, his hands braced on his desk, and his shoulders rigid. "Before I do something I'll regret."
I stood there for a moment, tears burning in my eyes.
Then I left, closing the door softly behind me.
Immediately I stepped out, I heard something crash against the wall inside his office, something expensive shattering into pieces.
I leaned against the wall outside, my hands shaking.
I had made my choice, I chose revenge over his trust.
And I didn't know if I'd just made the biggest mistake of my life or the smartest move I could make.
I didn't sleep well that night.
How could I, when every time I closed my eyes, I saw the look on Lucien's face? That terrible moment when hope died in his eyes, replaced by cold resignation.
I had hurt him again, and this time, I wasn't sure he would recover from it.
By the time dawn broke, I had made a decision. I couldn't fix everything overnight but I could start somewhere. I could show him, in small ways that I was trying.
Even if he didn't believe me yet.
I got up and padded downstairs, finding Marcus already stationed in the living room. He looked up, surprised to see me so early.
"Mrs. Blackwood. Is everything alright?"
"I couldn't sleep," I admitted, then hesitated. "Marcus, can I ask you something?"
His expression turned wary. Here it comes, his face seemed to say, the manipulation attempt.
"What does Lucien usually have for breakfast?"
Marcus blinked, clearly not expecting that question. "Excuse me?"
"Breakfast. When he's not... dealing with me trying to escape or drug him or whatever disaster I've caused." I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly feeling vulnerable. "What does he normally eat?"
Marcus studied me for a long moment before finally replying. "Black coffee, sometimes toast bread. He doesn't usually eat much in the morning."
"Because he's too stressed about babysitting me," I said quietly.
Marcus didn't confirm or deny it, but his silence was answer enough.
"What about lunch? Does he eat at the office?"
"Sometimes. More often, he works through lunch."
Of course he did. Lucien was probably running on caffeine and stress, trying to manage his company while also managing me.
"Thank you, Marcus." I said as I started walking toward the kitchen, then paused. "I know you probably think I'm planning something. That this is another manipulation but I'm not. I'm just... trying to be better."
Marcus's expression softened slightly, just a fraction. "Mrs. Blackwood, I've been with Mr. Blackwood for three years. I've never seen him like this. Whatever you're doing, whatever game you're playing..."
บทล่าสุด
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Aria's POVThe morning sun filtered through the high-performance glass of the medical wing, turning the sterile room into a soft, hazy gold color. Lucien was still asleep, his breathing deep and even for the first time in hours. I hadn't moved from his side. My head was rested on the edge of his mattress, my hand still tucked firmly in his.The quietness was shattered by the sound of heavy, rhythmic footsteps in the hallway. These weren't the silent, tactical steps of Chen or Marcus. They were deliberate and commanding.The door slid open, and Helena Blackwood stepped inside.She wasn't wearing her usual structured boardroom armor. Instead, she wore a simple black silk wrap, her silver ha
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Aria's POVI sat by Lucien’s bed for hours, my hand locked in his. The nurse’s words looped in my mind, Genetic. Chronic stress. Alcohol. I looked at his pale face. This man, who moved mountains to keep me in a gilded cage, was crumbling from the inside out. Every time I had fought him, every time I had looked at him with cold suspicion, I had been pushing him closer to this bed. The guilt was like a heavy weight in my chest, heavier than the wooden box still tucked in my jacket.I didn't want to ask about Vane anymore. I didn't care about the boy on the beach or the "J" on the compass. Not right now. I just wanted the man in front of me to breathe without a machine.Around 4:00 A&z
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Aria's POVI stood outside the glass doors of the private medical suite, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of Lucien’s chest. He looked fragile, pinned to the bed by plastic tubes and glowing wires. The high-tech hum of the monitors felt like a countdown I couldn't stop.Marcus stood by the door, his arms crossed over his chest. His suit jacket was off, his shirtsleeves were rolled up, and his eyes were bloodshot. He looked like a man who had been at war for forty-eight hours straight."He’s stable," Marcus said, though his voice lacked its usual iron. "But the doctors say the next few hours are critical. The strain on his heart was too much."I turned to him, the wooden box with the silver compasses still heavy in my pocket. "Marcus, talk to me. What really happened? You said it was the mission, but I saw the scars. That wasn't just shrapnel. That looked like a lifetime of trauma."Marcus tightened his jaw. He looked at
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Aria's POVLucien was still standing by the darkened television, his silhouette cast in jagged red by the emergency lights. He looked like a king standing amidst the ruins of his palace. His chest was heaving, his hand still white-knuckled around the grip of his gun."Lucien?" I stopped in my tracks as I called out.My voice was cold, filtered through the new layer of distrust I felt. I still had the wooden box tucked behind my back, the silver compasses biting into my palm. I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to demand the name of the boy in the photo.But Lucien didn’t turn around.He stayed frozen, staring at the black screen where Vane’s face had been moments ago. Then, a strange sound came from him, a harsh, wet wheeze that sounded like air being forced through a crushed pipe.His gun slipped from his hand. It hit the thick carpet with a dull thud."Lucien!"My suspicion vanished, replaced by the sharp, electric jolt of my
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Aria's POVThe library was too cold. The air felt thin and clinical, like everything else in the high-tech prison Lucien called a home. I stood against the mahogany shelves, my fingers tightening around the small wooden box. Inside, the silver compasses clinked. The sound was soft, but in the dead silence, it sounded like a warning.I turned the bent compass over and I felt the tiny, jagged engraving on the back.J & A.The letters were old and faded. A was for Aria. That was me. But the J was like a hole in my life. My mind searched for a name, a face, or a voice but I found nothing. The amnesia was a solid wall, cold and unyielding.Lucien had told me I was alone. When I woke up in that hospital bed, he was the only thing I had. He told me my parents were dead. He said I had no siblings. He said he was the only anchor I had left in a dangerous world.Liar.The thought didn't come from my brain. It came from my
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Aria's POVThe silence following my question was more than just an absence of sound, it was a physical weight. Lucien’s hand, usually an immovable anchor of strength, was trembling against my waist. The "Dark Lord" who had just dismantled a boardroom full of predators looked like he was staring at his own executioner."Lucien," I repeated, my voice dropping to a whisper as I searched his face. "Who is Vane? Why are you reacting like this?"He didn't answer. He couldn't. He looked at Marcus, a silent command passing between them that I couldn't decipher. Without a word, Lucien hauled me toward the private elevator, his stride frantic and disjointed.As the doors hissed shut, plunging us into the high-speed descent, Lucien finally turned to me. His eyes were no longer silver, they had darkened to something terrifyingly black."Vane is a ghost I thought I had buried, Aria," he rasped, his voice sounding like grinding stones. "
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