Chapter 34 34
“Mom,” Lucas said quickly, covering the unease twisting through his chest.
She stopped in front of him, her heels snapping softly against the marble.
“What’s the engagement boy doing all the way out here?” she teased lightly…
until she looked down and saw his fingers trembling against the phone.
Her smile faded.
A calm stillness passed over her — the kind only mothers have.
“Lucas…” she said quietly. “Why are your hands shaking?”
He immediately curled them into a fist and tucked them behind his back, a stiff laugh leaving his lips.
“It’s nothing, Mom. I just had a business call.”
Her brows lifted.
“Business call?” she repeated.
“You just got engaged, Lucas. Right now you should be with my future daughter-in-law… planning the Zanzibar wedding she’s always dreamed of.”
He swallowed.
Hard.
Planning a wedding.
His knuckles whitened where he squeezed the phone.
He forced a smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes.
“It’s all fine, Mom. Just… company things.”
She stepped closer, lowering her voice.
“Lucas.”
Her hand rested gently on his cheek — the same way she did when he was little and tried to hide a bad report card.
“You’re a terrible liar when something is eating you up inside. I carried you for nine months, remember?”
A crack opened inside him.
He shut his eyes for one second, steadying his breath.
“I’m fine,” he whispered.
But his mother didn’t miss the way his pulse jumped under his jaw.
She didn’t miss anything.
She sighed softly, smoothing his suit lapel.
“Well… whatever it is, I hope you fix it before the wedding. I want your heart to be where your ring is.”
He forced out a low, shaky laugh.
“Yeah… I hope so too.”
She smiled again, but her eyes stayed worried.
“Come on,” she said gently. “Your fiancée is waiting.”
She walked ahead.
And Lucas remained still for two long seconds, staring at the dark phone screen…
He tapped the call again, breath unsteady, and the line picked instantly.
“Mr. Brooks,” the man said, voice low and rushed. “I… took a picture of her. You can check it. The system should recognize the features. I sent it to the secure folder.”
Lucas’s pulse kicked hard.
Finally. Finally something real.
He swiped into his phone, thumb trembling just a little as he navigated to the encrypted folder.
His breath caught—he hadn’t felt this alive, this terrified, in years. If the face matched… if it was really her…
The loading bar crawled.
His world narrowed.
Then—he heard a sharp click behind him.
“What—” he started to turn, but he didn’t even get halfway.
A gloved hand grabbed the back of his neck.
The sting came next.
A cold needle to his neck .
His lungs seized.
The phone slipped from his hand, hitting the floor with a soft echo.
“What…” Lucas’s voice strangled as his vision blurred violently, colors bleeding into each other. The hallway stretched and twisted like water.
The figure behind him said nothing.
Just held him steady, letting the drug sink in deeper.
His knees buckled.
He tried grabbing for the wall—anything—but his arms felt like wet sand. His body crashed quietly, into the carpet runner.
The world dimmed.
Through the haze, he barely registered the gloved person crouching beside him… lifting his phone… sliding it into a pocket with eerie calm.
Then everything snapped into black.
The slim shadowy figure pushed a small decorative window open just enough.
They slid out quietly, landing behind the floral displays outside the function center.
And a waiting van was right there.
The door slid open.
The masked figure slipped inside and whispered into a radio:
“Mission successful.”
The van pulled away before anyone noticed the darkness had gained one more secret.
He stopped in front of a sprawling, mansion.
The van rolled to a slow halt, and the masked man stepped out, still breathing a little fast from the escape.
His gloves were still on. Lucas’s phone still sat in his pocket, vibrating faintly as if trying to fight for its owner.
Two tall bodyguards in black suits were already waiting at the iron gates.
One of them held out a scanner—sleek, rectangular, humming quietly. The man stood still as the red light passed over him from head to toe.
A voice from the scanner clicked:
“Identity confirmed. Level-Three Access. Burke Protocol granted.”
The gates unlocked with a slow, heavy groan… as if the mansion itself had woken up.
The man walked forward.
No one—even the wealthiest elites at the function he’d escaped from—would dare step foot in the Burke mansion without going through this ritual. Everyone knew the rule:
Whether you’re invited or not, the Burkes always know who enters their world.
A camera shifted on its axis, tracking him as he approached.
He finally stopped at the foot of the grand staircase.
From above, a shadow appeared—calm, unbothered, waiting.
A slow, satisfied voice drifted down.
“I assume the mission was successful?”
The man lifted Lucas’s stolen phone slightly, his face still hidden under the mask.
“Yes,” he said. “Mr. Burke… we have him exactly where you want him.”
“Can I have it?” Alexander Burke asked, his eyes fixed on the gloved man.
The man handed over the phone, displaying a photo of Blair—clear, unmistakable.
“Nice job,” Alexander said, a faint smirk curling at the corners of his mouth. “You never disappoint.”
Without missing a beat, he opened a hidden compartment in his suitcase and pulled out several thick stacks of cash.
He handed them over methodically, counting each stack with care. “Good job,” he repeated, watching the man tuck the money away with a nod.
The man slipped back into the shadows, van waiting outside, mission complete.
Alexander Burke stepped into his private study, the door shutting behind him with a heavy thud.
He sank into his leather chair, eyes immediately drawn to the phone resting on the desk—the photo of Blair still displayed.
A slow, painful smile tugged at his lips. “Even now… even after all these years… you keep running,” he whispered, his voice low and rough with longing.
He reached out, almost wanting to touch the screen, tracing the outline of her face with a finger.
His gaze lingered, burning into the image. “I even have tattoos of you… every part of you, I can’t forget,” he murmured, his chest tightening, breath shallow. The picture seemed alive in his mind—her laugh, her small hands EVERYTHING…
A sudden knock at the door jerked him back. His hand froze midair, his eyes still fixed on the photo, a sharp pang of frustration in his chest.