LUCIAN THRONE
I entered my office in my house with my secretary following me from behind.
I sit on my chair with my legs crossed." Did you get what I asked for?" I asked
"Yes sir." He handed me a file with the information I asked for Caelen.
I opened the file, reading the information. My secretary, Conrad William starts to recite the information.
"CAELEN VALENTINE, twenty-one years old. He lives in New York city, attends the Elite University, USA .
He is the third son of the Valentine family who owns a huge real estate business in USA, famous all over the country, But ....""But?" I asked
" He is the illegitimate son of the family. After ten years of marriage, his father started an affair with his secretary. Caelen is the result of that affair.
In his family, nobody seems to care for him. He is only there as a showpiece. So, their family doesn't have to go through a walk of shame.""What happened to the secretary?" I asked curiously.
"During the birth, the lady couldn't handle the pain and died while giving birth to him. Rumors are that his father's wife paid the doctors to kill her mother but we can't be sure as there is no evidence of the accusation."
I hummed at his words, and he continued.
"And yeah, one more thing. When he was thirteen years old. He gets molested by a group of gay people and he still seeks therapy for it but nothing helps. So, he indulges himself in drinking, sex and smoking weed.
The Most important thing is that he despise gay people."I looked at him, straight into his eyes, glaring at him. He knows my sexuality and still made a comment about it and even dared to highlight it.
"Get out of my office" I asked Conrad to leave.
Yeah! I am gay. I don't feel attracted to women. I found this out when I was fifteen years old. I used to play for my school football team and I started to feel attracted towards their muscular body.
At First, I was bisexual. I used to fuck every hole I get. Half of my life I spend experimenting with my sexuality.
But now I just fuck guys, Because they are easy to maintain."Well why would he hate all the gay men, that's so stupid."
Whatever it is, it is none of my business, he is going to be my brother-in-law. I should keep my distance from him.
I don't know why my sister found a homophobic person to hook up with.
Leave it. I put my thoughts aside and started to work on my new project ahead.At night, I am going down to have my dinner with my bodyguard by my side, Ilya. He is Russian and has been by my side since I slided into this business.
My late father allotted him to me. Since then he has been stuck by my side.Ilya Morozov, pale skin whiter than snow, blue eyes, sculpted jaw and 6'5.
He is also my best friend and gives fucking good advice but the fact aside it's more related to violence.This man doesn't talk but his fist speaks on a fucking loud speaker.I sit down on my chair on the dining table while Ilya sits beside me.
The maid starts to serve the food. While my sister came with her baby daddy by her side giving him physical support. If I didn't love my sister and she wasn't fucking pregnant with his child, I wouldn't even allow this man to become my chauffeur.She helps him sit on the chair.
Fantastic. Now I have to see my little sister doing stuff like this too." Didn't the doctor prescribe him a bed rest? What is he doing here?" I asked while sipping soup from my bowl.
"Well, I needed a change of environment. I was getting bored in that room" that stupid guy answered instead of my sister.
"And you thought it was a great idea to disturb my little sister who is by chance pregnant with your child" I gritted my teeth in anger.
"Well I wouldn't have done that if you wouldn't have beaten me like a maniac robot" he smirked.
The Audacity." Well you deserved it tho!" I answered with the same intensity.
" Stop it, you too. Just once think about my child before getting on each other's neck." She huffed.
"You need to calm, young mistress", Ilya senses her tension.I am seeing that since my sister got pregnant, Ilya has been too overprotective of her even more than me. Before he was always annoyed with her attitude.
Maybe because he likes kids and all.But he doesn't look like the type to appreciate a child.This motherfucker is more closed than a fucking box, it's so hard to get something on him.Suddenly, Conrad came up to me with tension displayed on his face and whispered to my ears.
" Sir, Mr. Caelens family has started to look for him in his absence. They have filed a police complaint for his missing"." You need to keep it a secret between us" I whispered back.
" But, sir." "Just do as I say"I nodded his head and turned back to leave.
His family has filed a complaint for him. Didn't his family hate him? It seems like there is more to the story than it looks.I need to delve deeper into it. Afterall He is going to be my brother-in-law and I need to check on his family's details for obvious reasons.I need to call Markus, I thought and went outside leaving the food untouched.
As I was walking towards the balcony, I called him. He is one of my most trusted men and can take out any information without anyone knowing.
After exactly three rings he picked up my call."How did you remember me today, yuvraaj" he said in his always mocking tone.
This guy can never be serious. "Markus, I have a job for you..."LUCIAN THRONE'S POVThe meetings were finally done.The sun was setting over the skyline when we slipped back into the Range Rover.I drove this time, hands steady on the wheel, but my mind was elsewhere — on Caelen waiting for me at home, probably with paint smudged on his fingers again.Caisen, for once, was quiet beside me. He leaned his head back against the seat, staring out the tinted window, his fingers drumming lightly on his thigh.Then, out of nowhere, his voice cut through the silence."When did you start loving my brother?"I blinked, taken aback.Caisen didn’t even look at me — just kept his eyes fixed on the dark horizon."How did you know it was love?" he added, almost as if he regretted asking but couldn’t stop himself now.I exhaled slowly, gripping the wheel a little tighter, remembering.It wasn’t a moment I liked to share.But if anyone deserved the truth… it was this insolent, maddening little thorn who was also my lover’s brother.“When I first spoke to him,” I a
LUCAIN THRONE'S POVThe week blurred into a haze of negotiations, handshakes, and strategy sessions.From the outside, it might’ve looked like I was still ruling with the same iron fist — the same cold authority that had built this empire in the shadows. But this was different.I wasn’t fighting to expand anymore. I was fighting to secure my exit.Every morning I left the mansion before Caelen was even fully awake. Every night I returned long after he’d fallen asleep on my side of the bed — though most nights, I found him waiting in my art studio, his body curled up in the corner, pretending he hadn’t dozed off waiting for me.He never complained, but his quiet eyes said enough.I hated it.Yet this was necessary.For Caisen to take the throne I’d built, I needed to make sure the ground beneath him was stable — and for me to walk away without looking over my shoulder every second, I needed to lock in alliances of my own.I didn’t want to become the kind of man who’d one day have to cr
LUCIAN THRONE'S POVI woke up to the faint morning light spilling through the heavy curtains. My body felt warm, heavy, and sore in ways I hadn’t felt in years.Beside me, Lucian lay on his side, still asleep, his arm draped over my waist. Even in sleep, he looked impossibly composed — his lashes casting shadows on his cheek, his lips slightly parted.For a moment, I just watched him breathe.My back ached faintly, and when I shifted, a sharper soreness radiated lower — between my thighs, a tender reminder of just how far we had pushed each other last night.I exhaled slowly, a small, rueful smile tugging at my lips.Maybe the revenge, the blood, the intensity… it all got to me. I remembered the way I had provoked him — daring him, clawing at him, demanding more and more until neither of us could stop.I’d crossed my own limits, and his.And yet — I didn’t regret a single second.Carefully, I slipped out of bed, wincing a little as I stood. My legs felt shaky, my skin still warm and s
CAELEN VALENTINE'S POVI was sitting in my studio again, light spilling through the tall windows, the air thick with turpentine and quiet frustration.The painting on the easel glared back at me — half finished, half lifeless. I kept staring at it, knowing something was missing.That red.That perfect, vivid, cruel red I could never quite find.Then the door creaked open behind me.I didn’t even turn. “Lucian?”“Yes,” came his low voice, smooth and faintly amused.I glanced over my shoulder — and there he stood, still in his tailored suit, holding a heavy glass jar in one gloved hand. Its contents shimmered dark and rich, thinner than paint but just as alluring.“What’s that?” I asked, arching a brow.He smirked faintly. “Imported,” he replied, placing it on my worktable as though it were the rarest wine.I leaned closer to the jar. The red inside almost seemed to pulse. It was so… vibrant. Exactly what I’d been looking for.Lucian just stood there silently, watching me as I unscrewed
LUCIAN THRONE'S POVI stood with my hands clasped loosely behind my back, watching the two of them crumpled on the concrete floor.Pathetic.Diana clung to Peter’s limp arm like a drowning woman to driftwood. Her perfectly manicured nails digging into his sleeve as if she still believed — foolishly — that he could protect her from what was coming.One of my men stepped forward on my silent signal, a black metal canister in hand.“Wake him,” I said. My voice didn’t rise. It never needed to.The man obeyed.But instead of water, they drenched Peter in petrol.The sharp, acrid scent filled the warehouse instantly. Diana gagged on it, her face blanching as the liquid splashed over her silk dress too.Peter jolted awake with a choked scream, coughing and sputtering, his eyes wild when he realized the wetness soaking his shirt and hair wasn’t water.He scrambled backward, slipping on the slick floor, but there was nowhere to run.I tilted my head slightly, observing him.“Better,” I murmure
DIANA VALENTINE'S POV We were moving fast.Peter Valentine,my husband kept glancing nervously over his shoulder as we hurried through the terminal, our luggage clattering behind us. My heels clicked loudly against the polished floor, but I held my head high. Even now — fleeing, humiliated, hated — I refused to let the world see me crumble.“Keep walking,” he muttered to me under his breath. “We’ll be out of this godforsaken country in an hour. They won’t dare touch us once we’re gone.”I sniffed, clutching my handbag tighter. “Good. Let them stew in their filth. That boy—” My lip curled — “that whore and his gangster can rot for all I care. He thinks he can threaten me? Me? After everything I—”My husband tugged me sharply. “Quiet. Stop drawing attention.”We made it to the gate. Just a few feet away from freedom. I exhaled, shoulders starting to relax.And that’s when I noticed them.A pair of men, dressed in crisp airport security uniforms, flanked by two others in plain suits. Sta