Lucien Lachance Novels & Stories

Caitlin grabbed a chair and sat down adjacent to me, her bare thighs squashing down onto the seat as she folded her ankles and leaned back. She gestured with her hand to let me continue, almost impatiently and I cocked an eyebrow at her with a small smile. This woman… "If," I emphasised. "You're willing. Your target would be Lucas Trevino, software engineer and owner of Godfather nightclub." I paused for her reaction and she simply just nodded her head waiting for me to continue.

"Going where? Who's going?" Lucas's smile grew almost across his face, splitting it in two, eyes dancing merrily in the light. "The two of you finally are invited to see my home. Serenius here," he paused to gesture to the man beside him, who bowed grandly, "and I are escorting you there. And yes, I know young Declan well. Since he was little more than a few days old, actually. I am Lucas Avantgarde, Royal Captain of the French Lyon Branch Mafia." He swept her a bow as well before standing upright again, watching the two of them with complete delight. "Amara-I-" Declan started.

I wasn’t a private investigator, but desperation made me resourceful. Lucien Rousseau. French national. Ex-businessman with a portfolio that spanned tech investments, real estate, and offshore accounts. His name cropped up in legal disputes, yet he always emerged unscathed. A ghost, barely leaving a trail. But the connections I found whispered of something darker: affiliations with individuals who operated outside the bounds of legality. Smugglers, brokers, and power players in Europe.

It just couldn’t be, Lucian could not be the wolf, he just couldn’t be. Now thinking about it, she never asked how he knew all he knew about the barghest or the ‘actual’ Greek and Roman history. Most of all, about the supernatural, she had initially coined it to being a history professor. It was sort of his job to know all that, right?

"I was just inspecting the new help. She seems... inexperienced." Lucien stopped. He was dressed in a charcoal suit today, looking every inch the gorgeous. He looked at Hannah’s hand on his chest, his expression unreadable. Then, he gently but firmly removed her hand and stepped around her. He didn't even answer her. He walked straight to the counter where I was standing. He ignored the stunning woman in the designer suit and locked his crystal blue eyes on me. "Are they done?" he asked. "Yes, Monsieur," I said, my voice shaky. "Fruit tarts with vanilla bean custard."

Nathan had to fight a smile. “But bro, damn, she has changed so much.” he continued, finally looking up from his phone. “She looked too nice and angelic to hurt a fly, let alone break someone’s heart. You could at least try and listen to what she wants to say.” Nathan Chio, Korean-American, was Lucien’s only real friend. They had been roommates in college, sharing similar ambition but wildly different temperaments. Nathan was the golden retriever of the duo—warm, friendly, and a friend to many. Lucien, on the other hand, was sharp, composed, and exacting—a man who radiated the focused control of an Akita. Nathan came from old money, while Lucien had built his empire from scratch.

This just got so much worse. Just as I ran out of the ballroom where he rejected me and declared Charlotte his Luna. I bumped into a petite person who didn't let me through even after I had apologized. It was Lucia, the only person besides her family who has looked at me and seen a person not an omega or a gold digging bitch as I have been labeled in this pack. “Robby! Come here, I heard you were going with Alpha Narcisse. I just need ten minutes and I'll be ready to go with you." Lucia said to me.

“Good morning to you too, sunshine.” I push myself up on my elbows and watch her move around the room like she owns it, which, honestly, she does. Her hair is a little tousled, her makeup is smudged, and she’s humming under her breath. “Where were you?” I ask, even though the answer feels painfully obvious. She grins. “Went home with him.” I snort. “I’m not even surprised… So what’s his name?” She drops onto the edge of the bed dramatically. “His name is Lucien. Thirty-two. Owns a wine distribution company. Speaks three languages, makes a mean omelet, and snores just enough to be annoying but not enough to ruin the experience.”

Her heart couldn’t take any more shocks. Daniella followed her, determined to help her friend. “Yes, Lucien Sylvester owns this cruise line and many others. What do you think LS stands for? He has named all his cruise ships after him.” Daniella took out her phone and searched for their boss. As expected, the screen was flooded with pictures and news of Lucien Sylvester’s notorious life. “Here, see for yourself.” She placed her phone in Brynne’s hands, forcing her to stare at the search results.

“Good morning to you too, sunshine.” I push myself up on my elbows and watch her move around the room like she owns it, which, honestly, she does. Her hair is a little tousled, her makeup is smudged, and she’s humming under her breath. “Where were you?” I ask, even though the answer feels painfully obvious. She grins. “Went home with him.” I snort. “I’m not even surprised… So what’s his name?” She drops onto the edge of the bed dramatically. “His name is Lucien. Thirty-two. Owns a wine distribution company. Speaks three languages, makes a mean omelet, and snores just enough to be annoying but not enough to ruin the experience.”