Chapter Four: Lost
Lucian’s POV
I could see her from across the grand ballroom.
Aria.
She moved gracefully, like she belonged among the elegantly dressed guests. Her dark and long hair flowed down to her back, and her green eyes burned with emotions I couldn’t quite name. Was it anger? Was it sadness? Maybe both. Maybe even more. But what made my chest feel tight, what made my hands curl into fists, was the man beside her.
Damien Laurent.
His hand rested lightly on her back, a touch that was too familiar, too possessive. My jaw clenched at the sight of that. My fingers tightened around the glass of whiskey in my hand as I forced myself to look away, but it was impossible to ignore the burning feeling in my gut. This wasn’t my place anymore. I had made my choice.
So why did watching her with him feel like a knife twisting inside of me?
“Lucian.”
I barely heard the voice over the pounding in my head. Celeste stood beside me at the bar, her golden hair shining under the soft lights, her sharp blue eyes filled with something close to amusement. She leaned against the counter, swirling the champagne in her glass. “You’re brooding.”
I exhaled, setting my drink down with a soft clink. “I don’t brood.”
Celeste smirked. “Right. And I don’t lie.”
I turned to look at her, to have a really good look at her. Something was different about her tonight. Her eyes held a secret, something she was just waiting to reveal. Celeste was always scheming, always playing some kind of game.
And I wasn’t in the mood for games.
She took a slow sip of her drink, her gaze drifting back to Aria before settling on me again. “Don’t worry,” she murmured. “We did the right thing.”
Something about the way she said it made my skin prickle. I frowned. “What the hell does that mean?”
She shrugged, tapping her fingers against her glass. “It means exactly what you think it means.”
Before I could think, I grabbed her wrist. “Did you leak those photos?”
Celeste’s lips curled, but she wasn’t afraid. If anything, she looked amused. “Oh, Lucian,” she whispered. “You think I’d be so obvious?” She leaned in slightly, her breath warm against my skin. “I wish I had.”
I let go of her, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. “Stay out of my business, Celeste.”
She laughed softly. “You’re cute when you’re angry.” She reached as if to brush a hand against my cheek, but I turned away before she could get a chance to. “Suit yourself,” she said. “But don’t waste your time chasing ghosts, Lucian. As you can see, She’s already moved on.”
I didn’t reply. I threw back the rest of my whiskey and left the event without another word. I had seen enough.
The next morning, I was in my office, drowning in paperwork, when Celeste walked in uninvited.
I didn’t even need to look up. “Get out.”
She sighed, making herself comfortable in the chair across from me. “Someone’s grumpy.”
I glanced up at her finally, irritation bubbling inside me. “Celeste, I don’t have time for your nonsense today.”
“Oh, but you’ll want to hear this.” With a smug smile, she slid a folder across my desk.
I stared at it, with something inside me warning me not to open it.
Her smirk widened. “Go on. Open it.”
Against my better judgment, I did.
And my world tilted beneath me.
Inside was a DNA test. My name. Aria’s name. The result: 99.9% match.
This had to be a lie. But the numbers didn’t lie. 99.9% match.
My vision blurred as I stared at the paper, my hands gripping it so tightly that the edges began to crumple. My breath felt too short, my chest too felt tight. My mind raced back—memories flashing back to me. .
No. No. No.
My stomach twisted violently. I thought of every time I had touched Aria. Kissed her. Made love to her.
God.
A wave of nausea hit me so hard I had to brace my hand against the desk. This was wrong. This was sick. This couldn’t be true.
But what if it was?
The thought alone sent me spiraling. My world shattered in a matter of seconds. I needed answers. Now.
I couldn’t breathe. My hands tightened around the edges of the paper. “No,” I whispered.
“Yes,” Celeste said, with satisfaction dripping from her voice. “I did my research, my love. And news flash. It turns out you are her father?”
I swallowed hard, my stomach twisting. “You’re lying.”
She sighed. “Am I?” Her blue eyes gleamed. “Victor knows. Has always known. And now, so do you.”
My pulse pounded in my ears. My hands shook.
Aria.
My Aria.
My daughter. It couldn’t be. There was no possible way for it to be true.
A raw sound tore from my throat as I shot up to my feet, my chair scraping loudly against the floor. Without thinking, I grabbed the glass paperweight on my desk and hurled it at the wall. It shattered into tiny pieces, but the chaos in my mind was louder.
Celeste stood, stepping closer, watching me like she enjoyed my suffering. “Now, now,” she said smoothly. “No need for dramatics. I thought you should know the truth. After all, it changes everything, doesn’t it?”
My breathing was ragged. My heart pounded so hard I thought it might break through my ribs. “Why are you telling me this?”
She shrugged. “Because I find it amusing.” Then she smirked. “And because you should know—Victor isn’t just keeping secrets. He’s making moves.”
I clenched my jaw. “What do you mean?”
Celeste leaned in, lowering her voice to a whisper. “He knew you were with her, Lucian. And he let it happen.”
Her words felt like a punch in my guts. My entire body went cold. “You’re lying.”
She just smirked. “Believe what you want. But Victor never lets anything slip through his fingers unless he has a reason.”
I turned abruptly, heading for the door.
Celeste chuckled behind me. “Going somewhere?”
I didn’t answer. I needed to see Victor. I needed the truth.
I stormed into Victor’s office, my pulse hammering. He looked up from his desk, his expression unreadable.
“Lucian,” he said calmly.
I slammed the DNA test onto his desk. “Explain this.”
Victor sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Ah. So you finally know.”
My hands curled into fists. “You knew.”
“Of course, I knew.” He gestured lazily at the test. “You think I’d let just anyone near my family without knowing everything about them?”
I felt sick. “You let me—” My voice caught in my throat. I couldn’t even say it.
Victor studied me, his expression cool. “Would you have stopped if you had known?”
The question hit me. Would I have stopped if I had known she was my daughter?
The answer was obvious.
Yes.
My mind screamed for this to be a lie, for this nightmare to be something that I could wake up from. But the proof was there. Undeniable. And Unforgiving.
I felt my stomach twist violently. My pulse pounded so hard it drowned out every rational thought in my head. The thought of it alone made me feel sick. Disgusted. Enraged.
My grip tightened around the paper before I slammed it onto Victor’s desk. “You let me touch her,” I said, my voice hoarse with barely restrained fury. My hands curled into fists at my sides. I was shaking.
Victor didn’t flinch. He leaned back, indifference written all over his face. Something inside me snapped.
I lunged forward, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him up, the result of it, knocking over the glass of whiskey on his desk, but I didn’t care. I wanted to break him. I wanted to destroy him.
“You knew,” I snarled, my grip tightening. “You knew, and you let it happen.”
Victor remained infuriatingly calm. He studied me with the same detached amusement he always wore, as if my rage was nothing more than a minor inconvenience to him. Like though my suffering was just another deal he had just closed.
My grip faltered.And then, behind me, a soft voice.
“Lucian?”
I turned sharply, my heart aching.
Aria stood in the doorway.