Chapter 5

The scent of Elara’s perfume still clung to Lucian’s suit as he stormed out of the gala, leaving the music and the whispers behind. He didn't go to his SUV. He went straight to the hotel’s private bar, but he didn't order a drink.

He sat in the dim light, his mind racing. “You chose her,” Elara had said.

He pulled out his phone and dialed a number he hadn't called in years. "Marcus? It’s Lucian. I need you to reopen the 2020 internal investigation. The Vance leak."

"Sir? That case was closed five years ago," his head of security replied, sounding confused. "The digital footprints led straight to Mrs. Thorne’s—I mean, Elara’s—personal laptop."

"I don't care," Lucian growled, his voice vibrating with a new, dangerous edge. "I want a forensic audit of Serena Blaire’s devices from that same month. Every deleted message, every 'hidden' login. If you find so much as a suspicious comma, I want to know."

"Lucian?"

He froze. Serena was standing in the doorway of the bar, her face pale, her silk gown crumpled. She looked frantic. "What are you doing? Why did you leave me back there? People are talking!"

Lucian slowly stood up. In the low light, he looked like a predator that had finally caught the scent of blood. "They’re talking about how my ex-wife is the most powerful woman in the room, Serena. And they're talking about why I was stupid enough to let her go."

Serena rushed forward, trying to grab his hands. "She’s manipulating you! She’s using those children—if they even are yours—to get her revenge! She was a thief, Lucian. Don't forget what she did to the company."

Lucian pulled his hands back as if her touch burned him. "That’s the thing, Serena. Elara didn't care about the company. She cared about me. And the more I look at you, the more I wonder... how did a woman who couldn't even navigate a spreadsheet manage to 'leak' a triple-encrypted fragrance formula?"

Serena’s eyes widened, a flicker of genuine terror crossing her face before she masked it with a pout. "She was desperate for attention! You know how she was."

"No," Lucian said, his voice dropping to a terrifyingly calm whisper. "I didn't know how she was. Because I was too busy listening to you."

He stepped closer, looming over her. "If I find out that you touched her life—if I find out you had anything to do with those papers I signed—I won't just fire you, Serena. I will make sure you are blacklisted from every industry in this city. You’ll be lucky if you can find a job sweeping the streets."

"Lucian, you can't be serious! We've been friends since we were children!"

"And that," Lucian said, walking past her without a backward glance, "was my first mistake."

---

The Next Morning – 6:50 AM

Lucian stood outside the doors of ScentTech, Elara’s New York headquarters. He was ten minutes early. He hadn't slept. His eyes were bloodshot, and his jaw was shadowed with stubble, but he looked more alive than he had in years.

He held a small bag in his hand—two hot chocolates and a box of expensive, artisanal macarons. He remembered she used to crave sweets when she was stressed.

When the elevator dinked, the doors opened to reveal Elara. She was in a sharp, white power suit, her hair in a high, tight ponytail. She looked ready for war.

She paused when she saw him standing there. Her eyes dropped to the bag in his hand.

"You're early," she said, her voice professional and cold.

"I didn't want to miss a single second," Lucian replied. He held out the bag. "I remembered you liked the salted caramel ones from that shop on 5th."

Elara looked at the bag as if it contained a poisonous snake. She didn't reach for it. Instead, she stepped out of the elevator and walked toward her office.

"I don't eat those anymore, Lucian. They’re too sweet. My tastes changed... along with everything else."

She sat behind her desk—a massive slab of white marble—and didn't invite him to sit. "Let's talk about the merger. I want forty percent of the board seats, and I want Serena Blaire’s formal resignation on my desk by noon."

"I've already drafted the termination papers," Lucian said, sitting down anyway. "And I'm not here for the merger, Elara. Not really."

He leaned forward, his voice cracking. "I saw the boy yesterday. Leo. He’s... he’s incredible. He’s mine, isn't he?"

Elara stopped typing. The silence in the room became heavy, suffocating. She slowly looked up, her blue eyes piercing his.

"He is his own person, Lucian. And he has a sister. Mia. She has your stubbornness, God help her."

Lucian felt a tear prick his eye—a sensation he hadn't felt since he was a child. "A daughter, too? Elara... why didn't you tell me? I would have changed everything."

"Would you?" Elara stood up, leaning over the desk, her face inches from his. "Or would you have just seen them as more 'assets' to manage? You didn't even see me as a human being, Lucian. You saw me as a shadow."

She grabbed a remote and flicked a screen on the wall. It showed a live feed of a playroom. Lucian saw Leo building a complex Lego structure and a little girl with dark curls, Mia, painting a picture.

"They have a father," Elara said, her voice trembling with five years of suppressed rage. "His name is Julian. He held them when they had fevers. He taught Leo how to ride a bike. He was there for every birthday you missed because you were too busy being the 'King of Wall Street.'"

"I'll earn it back," Lucian vowed, his voice raw. "I'll spend every second of the rest of my life earning it back."

Elara laughed, and this time, it was a hollow, tragic sound. "You think it’s that easy? You think a few macarons and a 'sorry' fixes the fact that you threw a pregnant woman out into the rain?"

She leaned in closer, her breath smelling of mint and coffee. "I’m not here to get back together with you, Lucian. I’m here to watch you realize exactly what you threw away. Now, sign the merger papers, or get out of my office."

Lucian looked at the papers. He looked at the screen with his children. Then he picked up the pen.

"I'll sign," he said. "But I'm not going anywhere, Elara. You wanted me to see what I lost? I see it. And I'm going to spend the rest of my life fighting to be the man who deserves to find it again."

As he signed the document, his phone buzzed. A message from Marcus:

Sir, we found it. A hidden offshore payment from Serena Blaire to a private investigator... dated three days before the divorce. The investigator’s specialty? Digital framing.

Lucian’s hand tightened on the pen until it snapped. The hunt was officially on.