Chapter 44 - The Deal

She frowned, her mind racing. “And I’m... what? A bargaining chip?”

“You are not necessarily that. This marriage benefits us both, Ayra. Think of it as a partnership. We both stand to gain, and in the process, you’ll have the freedom to carve out your own space."

She turned back to him, her expression unreadable. “Freedom? You’re marrying me to close business deals and save my family’s reputation. Where’s the freedom in that?”

Lucian didn’t flinch under her scrutiny, shrugging instead. 

“Freedom is what you make of it, Ayra. You can resent the circumstances or leverage them to your advantage. It also provides you with protection from external pressures. You’ve seen how things have been unraveling. Hate it if you want, but I’m offering you a way to gain control over the chaos around you.”

Ayra bit her lips, staring almost hatefully at the man before her. Finally, she whispered, “And if I say no?”

“Then the Russo business collapses. Your father’s debts consume everything. Your family becomes a footnote in history, while you... well, I doubt Lisbeth for one would let you walk away unscathed.”

What he left unsaid was that he wouldn't let her say no. He would hunt her down if that was what it took. Lucian was not ready to let her go. 

Ayra understood as much implicitly. She also figured he had not laid out everything to her. 

The bluntness of his words hit her like a punch to the gut. Ayra swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re leaving me with no choice.”

Lucian cocked an eyebrow. “No, Ayra. I’m giving you a path forward. One where you don’t necessarily have to fight alone.”

For a moment, they sat in silence, the weight of Lucian’s revelations settling over them. Ayra’s hands clenched into fists beneath the table. Despite her anger, she couldn’t deny the logic of his words. Or the bleak reality of her family’s situation, really. 

“Fine,” she said finally. “But don’t expect me to be grateful.”

"But if this is happening no matter what, then I have a few conditions.”

Lucian arched an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

“If we’re doing this, it’s going to be a court marriage,” she said firmly. “No big ceremonies, no audience. Just us, a few witnesses, and that’s it.”

Lucian considered her words for a moment before nodding. “Agreed. I never intended for anything extravagant.”

“And another thing,” Ayra continued, her tone sharpening. “There needs to be an out. If either of us wants a divorce, it happens. No questions, no strings attached.”

Lucian’s lips pressed into a thin line, the first sign of hesitation crossing his features. “That’s a complicated request, Ayra.”

“It’s non-negotiable,” she said, her voice unwavering. “If you’re so sure this marriage is for my protection and not control, then you shouldn’t have a problem with it.”

Lucian’s gaze lingered on her, the weight of her words sinking in. Finally, he nodded, though his expression was reluctant. “Fine. We’ll draw up a separate contract to that effect. But this isn’t a game. If you want out, it has to be for a good reason.”

Ayra scoffed, her eyes narrowing. “You don’t get to decide what’s a good reason for me.”

Lucian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fair enough. However, you are only allowed to go for an out after a year.”

Ayra pretended to think over his words though she was inwardly giddy that he was giving so much ground. 

"Alright. Deal."

Lucian smirked. He had made Isa fall for him before. It was easy to make her fall again and by then reminding her of him would just further solidify things. 

The tension between them eased slightly as their agreement took shape, though the air still crackled with unspoken emotions. They resumed eating, the conversation shifting to safer, less contentious topics.

For Ayra, the arrangement felt like a small victory. But as she looked across the table at Lucian, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was playing a game with rules she didn’t quite fully understand.

Lucian, on the other hand, seemed content, his expression softening as he observed her. 

As the dinner wound down and the plates were cleared, Ayra found herself wondering if she had made a mistake. The contract might have given her an out, but it also tethered her to a man she couldn’t fully trust. 

And yet, there was something about Lucian. Something that made her believe, however reluctantly, that he might truly have her interests at heart.

But even as those thoughts flickered through her mind, one truth remained crystal clear: There was no running from the Director.

Silence descended upon them for a while and Ayra swirled the drink in her glass. Her mind was spinning just as fast. 

She'd always known that she was going to give in at the end but a certain question had been clawing at her. She put the glass down with a quiet clink and locked eyes with Lucian.

“So," she began. "Have you figured out who sent those thugs after me?” 

Lucian, lounging back in his chair, straightened up at her words. He didn’t seem startled. Instead, he raised an eyebrow, his expression bored but thoughtful, like he was deciding how much to share.

“I have,” he said plainly.

Ayra frowned. Something about his tone told her it would not be too pleasant a conversation. 

“And? Who was it?” she asked. 

Lucian’s fingers drummed lightly on the table.

“You’re eager for answers," he said. It didn't seem like he appreciated it. 

Her scowl deepened. “Of course I am. Someone tried to have me dragged off and I think I have every right to know.”

“You think it’s tied to your father’s debts?” he asked. 

Ayra hesitated. “Isn’t it?”

“No,” Lucian replied. The word cut through the air like a blade. It wasn't a particular pleasant response. 

Her confusion deepened. “If it’s not the debtors, then who?”

Lucian didn’t rush to answer. Instead, he picked up his glass and took a measured sip, his eyes steady on hers. The silence stretched on, heavy and unbearable, until she felt like shouting just to break it.

“Lucian,” she snapped, her patience wearing thin.

Setting the glass down, he leaned back, his expression as unreadable as ever. “It’s not something you need to worry about.”

Her jaw clenched. “Not something I need to worry about? Someone sent armed men after me, and you’re telling me not to care?”

His gaze hardened, his voice low but unyielding. “I’m telling you I’ve handled it. There’s no point in you digging into it.”

She leaned forward, her voice rising. “That’s not enough, Lucian! Why won’t you tell me?”

His tone softened slightly, though his resolve didn’t waver. “Because knowing won’t help you, Ayra. It’ll only make things worse—fear, uncertainty... you don’t need that hanging over you.”

Her laugh was sharp, almost bitter. “Trust you? Really? You’ve made my life one giant contract, and now you want me to trust you?”

His jaw tightened, a flicker of irritation breaking through his calm. “You’re angry, and I get that. But this isn’t your battle. Let me deal with it.”

Her glare sharpened. “You’re avoiding the question. If it’s not about debts, then who else could possibly want me hauled off like that?”

Lucian didn’t flinch under her heated gaze. 

“There’s more to this than you know,” he said, his voice low and steady. “Not everyone involved has your well-being in mind.”

Her brows knit together. “Then why keep me in the dark?”

“Because the less you know, the safer you are,” Lucian said firmly. “I’ve taken care of it, but if you get too close, you’ll only draw more attention. Trust me, Ayra, this isn’t a risk worth taking.”

Ayra’s frustration burned hot, but beneath it, a sliver of understanding crept in. She hated being kept out of the loop, but the logic in his words was hard to ignore. If he really had handled the threat, what good would digging deeper do?

After a tense pause, she slumped back in her chair, her voice barely above a mutter. “Fine. Whatever."

Lucian’s lips curved into a faint, almost triumphant smile. “Noted.”

She took a sip of her drink, her mind racing with possibilities. Whoever had been behind the attack, one thing was clear: this was bigger—and far more dangerous—than she’d thought.