Chapter 31

It wasn’t surprising that no one at Monteforte Investment Bank would lift a finger to help the most hated human employee lug heavy boxes of documents. If anything, I had expected it. This was a task I would have to handle alone.

Of course, Hadrian hadn’t even considered assigning someone to assist me. In a normal scenario, an external audit would involve a team of at least five people. But because this particular audit had been my suggestion, I was now a one-woman department. Not that I minded working solo—I'd long grown accustomed to handling mountains of paperwork without any assistance.

This time, though, it was about those damned boxes from the archives.

I carried three at a time, each weighing roughly thirty pounds. These contained documents solely from the first quarter of 2011. As I walked through the corridor, I could feel the sneers and hear the quiet chuckles of the staff passing by. Their smirks were loud enough to make me wonder if someone might actually try to trip me.

“Thalassa, calm down. Think of it as weight training,” I muttered under my breath, my tone half-joking and half-exasperated.

Whoever had decided to place the archives at the farthest end of the fourth-floor corridor was undoubtedly a sadist. I had tried to find a luggage cart first, but—predictably—the “kind” human employees had conveniently taken all of them just as I asked. That left me with no choice but to carry the boxes manually.

The real issue wasn’t just the lack of cooperation but the fact that I had no authority over these people. At most, I could report their errors if they made any. That thought gnawed at me, but over the years, I’d developed a tolerance for dealing with animosity. My strategy now was to ignore them, knowing full well that my indifference would get under their skin. While they fumed and stewed in their petty irritation, I could focus on my work.

The majority of the archives—over 90%—were digital, which meant I could access most documents from my computer. However, some files required cross-referencing with handwritten signatures, and those were what slowed me down.

Still, I managed. By the end of the day, I had my first report ready.

I left my office and headed to the other end of the top floor, where the CFO’s office was located. After a knock, I heard Lucian’s voice, smooth and confident.

“Come in, Thalassa.”

I stepped inside. “How did you know it was me?”

Lucian chuckled, rising from behind his desk and walking toward me.

“There’s no one else brave enough to knock on my door, and you’re the only person I expected. Besides,” he added, his gaze sharpening, “no one smells as good as you.”

Before I could react, he leaned in and sniffed my neck, his behavior far too intimate for comfort. I instinctively stepped back, instantly regretting having asked the question.

“I brought the first report,” I said quickly, handing him the twenty-page document.

Lucian took it, skimming the first few pages. “Impressive! You work fast. Are you sure you’re human?” he quipped with a smirk.

“My mind just works at a level slightly above average,” I replied with a grin.

But then he leaned closer again, inhaling deeply.

“This is... peculiar,” he murmured, his eyes narrowing as if in contemplation.

“What’s peculiar?” I asked, laughing nervously as I moved away from him again.

“You haven’t been marked by a vampire, yet there’s a faint vampire scent on you—like it’s coming from within you.”

His words unsettled me, though they piqued my curiosity.

“How can you tell I haven’t been marked?”

Lucian grinned at my question, his tone teasing. “Vampires can sense if someone belongs to one of us. It’s like an invisible seal imprinted on the body. And no, it’s not always on the neck.”

My curiosity only deepened. “Have you ever marked someone?”

His laughter erupted so suddenly that I felt heat rise to my cheeks. Only then did I realize how intimate my question sounded—almost like asking if he’d ever been with someone.

I opened my mouth to tell him to forget I asked, but he spoke first.

“I’ve marked hundreds of women over the years,” he said nonchalantly, as if discussing a mundane topic. “I even have a little harem of ten right now. I wouldn’t mind making it eleven, if you’re interested.” He licked his lips, his gaze steady on mine.

“I’ll pass,” I said, my tone sharp but composed.

“What a shame,” he mused. “If I were Hadrian, I’d have sunk my teeth into you the day we met.”

His bluntness was disturbing, yet I found myself responding calmly. “Hadrian wouldn’t bite me even if I begged him to. After all, I’m the daughter of his mother’s killer.”

Lucian chuckled darkly, his amusement evident. “Do you really think that’s the reason he doesn’t want to mark you?”

“Who knows?” I shrugged, masking my frustration. “From what I’ve heard, marking is an intimate act. Maybe he doesn’t find me attractive. Or maybe he just doesn’t like human women. For all I know, he forces himself to drink blood, which is why he sticks to blood bags.”

Lucian burst into laughter, doubling over as if I’d told the funniest joke he’d ever heard.

I clicked my tongue in annoyance. “I’m glad my theories are so entertaining to you.”

It took him a moment to recover, but when he did, his grin was wide and mischievous. “All right, sit down. Let me read your report, and then I’ll tell you a story about my dear cousin.”

I sat on the sofa as instructed, watching Lucian return to his desk. He opened the folder containing my report and began reading. His eyes darted across the pages at an astounding speed, yet the notes he jotted down proved he wasn’t merely skimming. If not for the methodical way he worked, I might have thought he was simply flipping through aimlessly.

It was then I began to grasp why humans rarely occupied higher positions here. Few people could match this kind of efficiency.

“Excellent job, Thalassa,” Lucian said, flashing me a grin as he set down the final page.

“Thank you,” I replied, my voice tinged with nervousness. His skills were nothing short of intimidating.

“It seems you’ve already identified a few people worth firing,” he remarked with a mischievous chuckle.

I hesitated before responding. “The issues I found were minor mistakes. I’d recommend issuing a warning first and only considering termination if the behavior repeats.”

His demeanor shifted in an instant. The warmth in his voice vanished, replaced by a cold, calculating tone. “We don’t make mistakes here.”

The iciness of his words sent a chill down my spine, and for the first time, I understood why others feared him. In that moment, his aura was merciless—unyielding. It struck me that his earlier compliment was likely a rarity, perhaps something he hardly ever expressed.

Still, I couldn’t let this go without speaking up. Punishing people for minor errors from ten years ago felt unjust, even excessive.

“That was a long time ago,” I ventured cautiously. “Some of the people responsible might not even work here anymore—or they’ve likely grown into valuable employees by now.”

“It wasn’t that long ago,” he countered, his tone unwavering.

“It’s been a decade!” I retorted, letting out a nervous laugh.

Lucian leaned back slightly, a contemplative expression crossing his face. “Ah, you’re right. Some of those humans could already be dead by now…”

His remark made me smile awkwardly. “I think that’s taking it a bit far. What I meant was, trust me on this. In future reports, I’ll highlight significant issues, and I’ll be able to see if these mistakes resurface.”

He exhaled deeply, his lips curving into a smirk. “Fine. Let’s wait and see.”

With that, he slipped my report into a folder labeled Confidential, stood up, and crossed the room to sit beside me on the sofa.

“Now,” he began, his grin brimming with excitement, “aren’t you curious about my cousin?”

I couldn’t deny my curiosity, but discussing the private life of the man I was attracted to—especially with someone I’d just met and who happened to be my boss—felt odd. Instead, I gave Lucian a tight-lipped, nervous smile, unsure of how to respond.

He let out a low, teasing laugh. “Oh, I can see it. You’re dying to know.”

I sighed, surrendering to his persistence. “Fine. Please, enlighten me—why doesn’t he want to mark anyone?”

Lucian’s smirk deepened, and his eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made me hold my breath.

“Hadrian doesn’t want to mark humans,” he said, his voice low, “because the last time he did, he fell in love with the one he marked—and he killed her.”

My eyes widened, and I gasped.