Chapter 252

Chapter 252
There was a long exhale on the other end.

“I am going to meet Lucien. Alone. And pray that he is willing to negotiate.”

Arabelle felt the world tilt under her feet.

“Negotiate… what?”

“Our survival,” he said.

Her breath hitched.

“Dad...”

But he cut her off.

“If we lose everything, Arabelle… if the Weng family collapses… it will be because of you.”

The line clicked dead.

Arabelle stared at the dark screen, heart thundering. For the first time in her life, Arabelle Weng was afraid. And she knew one thing with chilling certainty, Lucien Feng was coming. And this time, he intended to end her.

Arabelle stood frozen in the center of her luxurious hideout bedroom, the call with her father still echoing in her ears. His last words weren’t advice. They weren’t a warning.

They were a death sentence.

“Arabelle… Lucien Feng has already reached the estate. Do you understand what that means? He bypassed my security. He bypassed the guards. He is coming for you. And I cannot stop him.”

She’d never heard her father sound like that before.

Not angry.

Not worried.

But terrified.

Arabelle’s breath strangled in her throat as she lowered the phone with trembling fingers. A thick silence pressed in around her, the kind that comes before something breaks. Her hands shook so violently she dropped her diamond bracelet onto the marble floor, the sharp clink making her jump.

Her father knew.

It was her.

It was always her.

And now, the consequences were crashing down.

She spun around, grabbing the nearest suitcase with frantic, jerky motions. Clothes, expensive, useless, irrelevant, were shoved inside. Jewelry. Cash. Fake passports. The small silver USB drive with all the blackmail she’d collected over the years.

She needed to disappear.

To vanish before he arrived.

Because if Lucien Feng got to her… She knew exactly what would happen.

There were worse things than death. Lucien specialized in them.

Her mind raced as she stuffed her belongings into the suitcase.

“This is fine,” she whispered shakily to herself. “I can run. I can hide. I can fix this.”

But another thought shoved through, colder, truer: No one escapes Lucien Feng.

Her breathing turned erratic.

She rushed to the vanity, opened a concealed drawer, and pulled out a matte black gun. Her hands tightened around it, knuckles white. Even the weapon felt too light, no protection against him.

Her phone buzzed again.

She froze.

A message from her father.

One sentence.

“Do not return home. He is hunting you.”

Arabelle’s entire body locked.

Hunting.

Not looking.

Not confronting.

Not negotiating.

Hunting.

Her throat tightened with a silent, panicked sob as reality slammed into her:

This wasn’t about business anymore.

This wasn’t about rivalry or manipulation.

This wasn’t even about Meilin or Serena alone.

Lucien was coming because she had crossed the line he’d warned her about a thousand times.

She went after someone he loved.

She went after Serena Lin’s mother.

And Lucien Feng only had one response when someone threatened his wife: Destruction.

A tear slid down her cheek, not from sorrow, but from sheer fear.

She grabbed her coat, yanked open the door... Only to stop dead.

The lights in the hallway flickered.

A shadow moved at the far end.

A guard?

One of hers?

No.

Her guards no longer moved that quietly.

Her legs nearly buckled.

“Not yet,” she whispered to herself. “Not now. Not here..”

She slammed the door shut again, locked it, dragged a chair beneath the handle, and stumbled backward until her spine hit the wall.

Her breaths came out in shaky bursts.

He was close.

Too close.

She forced herself to move, darting toward the hidden exit behind a sliding panel. Her trembling fingers punched in the code, wrong once, twice..

“Come on,” she hissed, “come ON...”

The panel clicked open.

Her escape route.

A narrow corridor leading to the service elevator.

She grabbed the suitcase, gripping the handle so hard her fingers cramped, and stepped into the darkness... But paused.

For the first time in her life, Arabelle Weng realized: She had no plan. No higher ground. No allies strong enough to shield her. Not even Adrian, because Lucien would destroy him too, and they both knew it.

She had built her life on power, influence, secrets, manipulation. But Lucien wasn’t afraid of any of that. And now, everything she’d used to control others was absolutely useless against him.

Without another second wasted, Arabelle bolted into the corridor, her heartbeat thundering as the panel slid shut behind her.

A single thought chased her down the hidden passageway: Run before he finds you. Because once Lucien Feng puts his eyes on you, you're already dead.

Arabelle gripped the steering wheel so hard her knuckles drained white, the luxury car swerving as she shot out of the hidden driveway. Her breath came out in sharp, broken puffs, half rage, half terror, all disbelief.

This couldn’t be happening.

Not to her.

Not to Arabelle Weng.

The night swallowed the roads, headlights slicing through the dark as she sped down the highway with no clear direction, only one instinct: Run.

Because for the first time since she was old enough to manipulate her first boardroom full of men, Arabelle felt something she had never truly felt before.

Fear.

The moment she ended the call with her father, him screaming, his voice shaking with a fear she had never heard in him, reality had crashed over her like ice water.

Lucien has infiltrated your hideout.

Lucien is already inside the estate.

Lucien has declared war on us.

Her father’s voice had cracked on that last line.

Her father, the ruthless patriarch who had never bowed to anyone.

If he was terrified… then the situation was catastrophic.

Her mind raced, replaying every warning Lucien had ever given her family. She had dismissed them all. Mocked them. Sneered at them.

And now?

Now she was the reason the Weng family was teetering on the edge of annihilation.

“Damn it… damn it…” she hissed, smacking the steering wheel as her eyes burned.

Her hideout, compromised.

Her inside men, gone.

Her father, furious beyond measure.

And Lucien?

Lucien was moving like a phantom on a warpath.

She’d underestimated him. Again and again. Calling him dramatic, obsessive, overly protective of Serena Lin. She had assumed Lucien’s restraint meant weakness. But she forgot the golden rule of dealing with monsters:

Just because the beast sits still doesn’t mean it isn’t watching you.