Chapter Seven

Lucian's Pov

I walked into my stepmother's room, just in time to see Rosaline raising a heavy glass tray, ready to smack the shit out of Jace.

Scared? Jace looked far from that. I could see the anger burning in his eyes, hand caressing his cheek which was very obvious that he'd been slapped.

“Stop.” My voice cut through the air. "What is wrong with you?"

Rosaline froze and turned, her eyes narrowing at me. “Learn to ask what the matter is before you jump into conclusions."

"I don't need to ask questions because I already know the answer. " I shoved my phone into my pocket.

"I asked this wretch," she glared at Jace. "to make a simple dish and he gave me salt, she hissed. “Do you know how much food items cost? A mistake like that deserves to be punished.”

I stepped closer, my hands slipping into my pockets to keep them steady. "You can always have simple meals like spaghetti made, instead you choose meals from the deepest ends of the world."

Her nostrils flared, and her chin lifted proudly.  “Watch your tone, Lucian. Don’t forget who you are talking to.”

I met her stare, ice locking against fire. "Don’t remind me. You weren’t the one who birthed me, Rosaline. So stop parading yourself like you hold rights over me.”

Her lips tightened, her face paling before her fury returned. “Ungrateful boy. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have the empire you rule today.”

I leaned closer, my voice low but sharp enough to cut. “If it weren’t for me, you’d still be a bored widow sitting in someone else’s shadow. Remember that I made you what you are today.”

The silence that followed was so thick Jace flinched, waiting for another explosion.

 Rosaline finally turned away, slamming the tray onto the table with a loud clink causing it to shatter into so many pieces. She turned to Jace, wishing she could claw at him with her nails. 

"Just like the others, you'll run from this house, just you wait and see." She pointed at the mess she made. "Tell the cleaner to come up to my room at once."

“Get out,” she spat at Jace. 

He turned and walked away, without giving her a second look. That only infuriated Rosaline. A smirk curled my lips, it seemed like having Jace around wasn't going to be bad after all. 

Rosaline smoothed her dress, but her hands were trembling. She took a seat, crossing one leg over the other.  “The shipments arrived this morning."

"I'm well aware." I retorted.

"Go down to the docks and see that everything is in order.” Her voice was clipped, each word a dismissal. "Try not to screw it this time around."

I didn’t answer. She always found a way of pouring salts into wounds that had begun to heal. I just turned, signaling my guards.

The drive to the docks was quiet. I sat back in the leather seat, staring out at the passing streets. My men knew better than to disturb me when I was thinking.

Last time shipments had to be drowned in the fucking ocean because someone had whispered to the police. That much was clear. And if there was a traitor in my house, they’d soon regret breathing.

The salty wind hit me as we arrived. The docks smelled of rust and seaweed, everything about the sea made me sick. Dockworkers froze at the sight of us, bowing their heads and stepping aside as we passed.

The containers were placed side by side. I had just raised my hand to order an inspection when a short man came running towards me.

"The police! His shout split the air. "They're here."

“Police!” Everyone began to scramble around, hiding whatever could implicate them.

Damn it! The snitch had managed to tip off the Police even after I'd kept this new arrival between me and my trusted guards.

I turned slowly, my guards tensing around me. A cluster of officers marched toward us, their leader already flashing a badge.

 His voice rang out, self-assured but nervous under the surface. “We received a tip that you have shipped in illegal firearms.. We’re conducting a search.”

My men shifted, hands brushing their weapons. I raised a hand, stopping them. I walked forward, calm as steel. “A warrant?”

The officer faltered. “A… tip is enough reason to have your shipments searched.” He stepped closer, looking me dead in the eye. "Or else you're hiding something."

A smirk tugged at my lips. “Then search. But you’ll find nothing.” 

The officers fanned out. I lit a cigarette and leaned against one of the containers, watching them with hooded eyes. Each clang of metal echoed like a countdown in my head. My guards kept their hands tight on their guns, waiting for me to snap.

Ten minutes later, the lead officer returned, his face stiff. “ There's nothing here.” Something didn't sound right when I heard those words, but I brushed aside the fear.

I flicked my cigarette to the ground and crushed it under my heel. “Next time, come with a warrant. Or don’t come at all.”

His face reddened, but he didn’t reply. He walked away, his minions following closely.

I turned back to the containers. Rage pulsed low in my chest, steady and dangerous. Someone inside had given them the time and location. That wasn’t just betrayal—that was war.

“Open them,” I said. "Why the fuck didn't they find anything in them?"

The first lock snapped open. The doors creaked wide, revealing… nothing.

I stared into the hollow darkness. My jaw tightened.

“Check the rest.”

Metal groaned, locks shattered, and one by one the truth unfolded. Just like the first, the rest were all empty. 

A fire roared inside me. My fists clenched so tightly my knuckles cracked. My men exchanged uneasy looks, but none dared speak.

Then my phone buzzed. The screen glowed with a private number. I answered, my voice low with fury. “Who is this?”

A smooth, mocking voice slid through the speaker. “Consider this just the beginning.”

The line went dead.

Just the beginning huh? Only a man who was digging his own grave would dare to mess with me.

"Seems like I'm going hunting again."