Aria slammed her phone face-down on the café table like it had personally betrayed her.
"Tomorrow. At. The. Bar," she read aloud, voice flat. "After ghosting us for three hours."
Kaya stirred her coffee slowly, the clink of the spoon way too calm for someone who'd just been psychologically mugged."He wanted to see how long we'd wait."
Aria's eyes flicked up. Sharp."And now he knows."
Kaya nodded. "We're patient. And curious."
Aria snorted. "Congratulations to us. We just handed a stranger our psychological profile."
She leaned back, crossing her arms. "Fine. Tomorrow we go. But we do not chase. We walk in like we own oxygen."
Kaya smiled faintly. "I like that version of us."
The bar – next night
Low lights. Velvet shadows. Bass humming through the walls like a second heartbeat.
This wasn't just a bar. This was the kind of place where secrets paid rent.
Aria clocked it instantly. The seating arrangement. The exits. The men who weren't drinking but were definitely watching."Yeah," she muttered. "This place eats people."
Kaya leaned close. "Smile. Predators love relaxed prey."
They entered.
And the room shifted.
Lucien sat at the bar, exactly where he wanted to be—back straight, posture effortless, eyes forward. Not searching.
Ron was beside him, already smiling.
That damned smile.
He turned the moment they stepped in, like he'd been counting footsteps.
"Well," Ron drawled, lifting his glass slightly. "Look who actually showed."
Aria didn't miss a beat. She walked straight up to them and stopped just close enough to be invasive.
"You stood us up," she said coolly. "That's rude."
Ron's grin widened. "You waited."
Lucien finally turned his head.
And there it was.
That weight. That quiet, suffocating attention.
His gaze settled on Aria—not curious, not amused. Assessing. Like she was a variable in an equation he hadn't solved yet.
"You followed us," Lucien said calmly.
Not a question.
Kaya straightened. "You noticed."
Ron laughed. "Oh sweetheart, we noticed before you learned how to pretend you weren't obvious."
Aria tilted her head. "Then why the game?"
Lucien's eyes didn't leave her face."Because," he said evenly, "people who follow usually want something."
Ron leaned back. "So. What do you want?"
Silence stretched.
Aria met Lucien's gaze head-on. No flinching. No apology.
"The truth," she said. "About why you feel like trouble."
Ron let out a low whistle. "Bold."
Lucien's lips curved—not quite a smile."Dangerous."
Kaya felt it then. That shift. Like something had locked into place.
Ron set his glass down and stood. "Sit," he said, gesturing to the empty stools beside them. "If you're going to play, at least do it properly."
Aria didn't move.
"You don't scare me," she said to Ron.
His grin sharpened. "You don't scare him," he replied, nodding at Lucien. "That's worse."
Lucien finally spoke again, voice soft and lethal."You shouldn't have come."
Aria smiled.
"Neither should you have noticed."
For the first time that night—
Lucien looked genuinely interested.
And somewhere between the bassline, the whiskey, and the four people standing too close to each other—
The game officially began.
The bar hadn't gotten quieter—but the space around them had.
Lucien shifted slightly toward Aria, his body angling just enough to signal intent. Not ownership. Not yet.Conversation.
Aria noticed. Of course she did.
Before she could respond, Kaya stepped half a pace closer—not clinging, not dramatic, just there. Like a shadow that refused to detach.
Lucien's gaze flicked once. Brief. Assessing.
Ron caught it.
"Oh come on," Ron said lightly, pushing off the bar. "You're blocking the view."
Kaya arched a brow. "Of what?"
"Of fun," he replied, already walking. "And you look like you desperately need some."
"I'm good right here—"
Ron smoothly intercepted, placing himself between Kaya and Aria like it was accidental. Like gravity did it for him.
"Bathroom's that way," he said, nodding. "Drinks are stronger near the back. And I have a story that'll either traumatize you or make your night."
Kaya hesitated—just long enough to glance at Aria.
Aria met her eyes. A silent exchange.
I'll be fine.Don't let him kidnap you.If I scream—
Ron was already guiding Kaya away, hand hovering politely at her elbow, voice low and amused.
"Relax," he murmured. "If I were going to kill you, I wouldn't do it publicly."
Kaya muttered, "That is not comforting."
Lucien didn't watch them leave.
His attention stayed locked on Aria.
"Dinner," he said. Not a question.
Aria exhaled sharply. "You're persistent."
He gestured toward the exit. "You're still here."
Dinner – private room, low light, too expensive to feel comfortable
The table was small. Intimate by design. Candles. Wine untouched.
Aria sat straight-backed, hands folded, eyes alert.Lucien removed his jacket slowly, methodically—like everything he did.
"This isn't a date," Aria said first.
Lucien sat. "I know."
"Good. Because I don't date men who corner me."
He poured wine anyway. "You weren't cornered. You walked in."
She didn't reach for the glass. "You sent your dog to distract my friend."
Lucien's mouth twitched. "Ron is many things. A dog isn't one of them."
"Predator, then."
"Accurate."
Silence.
Lucien leaned back slightly. "You don't want to marry me."
Aria scoffed. "Oh, congratulations. You can read."
"You don't want to," he continued calmly, "because you think marriage is submission."
She leaned forward now. "Because it is."
"For weak men," he corrected. "And weaker women."
Her eyes flashed. "Careful."
Lucien met her stare unflinching. "Marriage to me wouldn't cage you. It would arm you."
Aria laughed softly. "You expect me to believe this is some feminist fantasy?"
"No," he said flatly. "I expect you to believe this is survival."
He leaned in just enough for his voice to drop.
"You are already in my world, Aria. People have seen you. Noticed you. If I can find you, others can too."
Her jaw tightened. "That sounds like a threat."
"It's a warning," he replied. "One I don't give often."
She held his gaze. Didn't look away. "So your solution is… marry you and hide behind your name?"
Lucien shook his head slowly."No. Marry me—and become the name."
That landed.
Aria inhaled, steadying herself. "You don't know me."
"I know enough," he said. "You don't bend. You don't beg. And you don't belong quietly to anyone."
She stared at him, searching for mockery. Found none.
"Then why force this?" she asked. "Why not choose someone easier?"
Lucien's eyes darkened."Because easy women don't survive what's coming."
A beat.
Aria pushed her chair back slightly. "I'm not saying yes."
"I know," he said.
"Then stop acting like it's inevitable."
Lucien stood, towering now, but his voice remained maddeningly calm.
"It is," he said. "You just haven't accepted yet that the safest place for someone like you… is beside someone like me."
She stood too.
Close. Too close.
"And what if I say no?" she asked quietly.
Lucien looked down at her, eyes unreadable.
"Then," he said, "I'll convince you."
Her pulse betrayed her—but her voice didn't.
"Try."
For the first time that night—
Lucien smiled.
Not victory.
Anticipation.
Dinner ended without ceremony.
No dessert. No small talk. Just the soft scrape of chairs and the low murmur of a restaurant that knew better than to listen.
Lucien stood first.
Aria followed, posture stiff, eyes already searching the room.
"Kaya?" she asked, scanning the shadows beyond the private space.
Lucien didn't slow."Ron will take care of her."
Aria stopped.
The temperature dropped.
She turned slowly, eyes blazing, voice controlled but lethal."If something happens to my friend," she said, each word deliberate, "I won't leave a single thing unburned."
Not a threat.
A promise.
For half a second, the room held its breath.
Then—
Lucien chuckled.
Low. Soft. Amused in a way that would've terrified anyone else.
He stepped closer, placing a hand lightly at the small of her back—not possessive, not rough—guiding her forward as if the world already expected them to move together.
"Don't worry," he said calmly, steering her toward the exit. "He's not someone who touches women without their consent."
Aria didn't relax.
Lucien continued, voice steady, unbothered by her fury."He flirts. He provokes. He enjoys chaos." A pause. "But he respects people."
They reached the car.
The driver was already waiting, door open.
Lucien leaned in slightly, just enough for his words to land only for her.
"And I'm damn sure," he added quietly, "he won't take risks where your friend is concerned."
Aria's eyes narrowed. "Why?"
Lucien met her gaze, expression unreadable.
"Because," he said simply, "Ron values his life."
The implication hung heavy.
Aria hesitated for half a second—then slid into the seat.
Lucien closed the door himself.
As the car pulled away, Aria stared out the window, jaw tight.
She didn't trust him.
But she hated that, somewhere deep down—
She believed him.