87

Arthur

“The Venice deal is back on our radar after ghosting us. Lucien must have rejected them.”

Eric's voice cut through the silence of my office as he strode toward me, placing a thick file on my desk.

I leaned back in my chair, my fingers tapping lightly on the glossy surface of the proposal. Lucien must have felt insulted. That man had power—wealth beyond measure—and yet, it didn't take much to weaken an empire. A single crack in the foundation, the right pressure applied to the right wound, and even the strongest could crumble.

And that was why I didn’t just want to beat Lucien in business. I needed to go deeper. I needed to strike where it would hurt the most.

I have his whore wrapped in my hands for a starter and I'm pushing way beyond that.

Eric pushed another file toward me, filled with details about Lucien’s holdings, movements, investments. But I was barely looking at them. For the past five years, I had been nothing more than a shadow, working behind the scenes, maneuvering, plotting, waiting for the right moment to strike. And yet, no matter how hard I tried, Lucien remained untouchable. His reach extended across continents—Africa, Asia, Europe, the Americas. His influence was like a virus, spreading and infecting everything it touched.

I was impressed. But even the mightiest man had an Achilles' heel.

I would find Lucien’s and tear him apart.

Even if I might have a clue. Moore or Felicity.

I just need to find the right one and I'll get it!

I looked up at Eric. “Take the deal.”

His brows lifted slightly in surprise, but he nodded.

“Make sure they bleed for wasting my time. Squeeze them dry, and when we’re done, silence them. They should suffer for even thinking they had a choice.”

Eric bowed his head in understanding before walking out.

The moment the door clicked shut behind him, I exhaled and reached for the photographs on my desk.

One was of Felicity. The other—Moore and Lucien together. Not the usual loved up couples, but that couple you can't stop staring at because both are mysterious.

Moore was in that blue dress, the one she had worn at Lucien’s launch in London. Somehow, I can't get her look off my head.

That event had been unexpected. When I received the invitation, I knew immediately that Lucien was playing a game. A move meant to provoke me. If I had backed down, it would have been an act of cowardice, a silent declaration of surrender. That wasn’t an option.

So, I had gone.

I had watched Lucien, studied him after all these years of working in the background. And I had expected, hoped for a flicker of hesitation from him. But no. Lucien had remained unreadable. And the worst part? He had known exactly who I was.

He had always been a step ahead.

And then there was Moore.

Moore wouldn’t have been an enemy if she hadn’t shot me five years ago. Maybe, just maybe if things had played out differently, I would have seen her as something else.

But now?

Now, she was married to the man I loathed the most.

A humorless smile curved my lips as I thought back to what she had done to her pathetic ex-husband and his equally pathetic mistress. It had been… entertaining, to say the least. That woman had fire, and she had been thoroughly screwed over. Chased out of her own property, betrayed, humiliated. I almost respected her for how she handled it.

And soon, I would be meeting her.

Lucien had actually given me her number. It was a bold move, either a trap or a challenge. But it didn’t matter.

I had only ever reached out to one person before, Moore’s sister. But Lucien had put an end to that, locking down her family, surrounding them with security, making them untouchable.

An interesting move for a man who supposedly despised his wife.

My lips curled. Perhaps Lucien himself didn’t even realize how much Moore was beginning to matter to him.

A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts.

My secretary’s voice came through the intercom. “Sir, Grey Addison is outside.”

I let out a low snort.

That useless fool.

The idiot couldn’t even complete a simple task. I had asked him to take care of Moore, but instead, he had gone to her workplace like an absolute moron, only to be humiliated.

And the best part?

I had listened to every second of that conversation because the idiot had forgotten to hang up the call.

Pathetic.

“Let him in,” I said, already bored of this.

Grey stumbled in, his arm in a cast, his face riddled with anxiety. “Arthur, I—”

I cut him off before he could start his excuses. “Spare me the whining.”

He swallowed, shifting uncomfortably as I stared at him.

“I asked you to do one simple thing, Grey,” I continued. “And you couldn’t even manage that.”

“I—I tried,” he stammered. “But she—she’s not normal! She—”

I sighed and leaned back, watching him with mild amusement. “And what exactly am I supposed to do with you now?”

Grey paled.

I pressed the security button.

The doors opened, and within seconds, two men stepped in.

Grey began to panic. “Arthur, wait—just give me more time! I—I can still—”

“You can’t do shit,” I cut in coldly. “And you’re not useful to me if you can’t complete basic tasks.”

The men grabbed him, dragging him out as he begged for another chance.

Pathetic. Lucien was already finishing him up, licking just the last part of what remained in that company.

As the doors shut behind them, Eric reappeared.

“Sir,” he said, his voice even, “she’s here.”

I straightened slightly.

“Bring her in.”

My lips stretched. God how I had anticipated so long for this.

Eric stepped aside, and the door opened once more.

And then, she walked in.

She was beautiful.

Long black hair, delicate features—the perfect recreation of the tool I wanted.

The resemblance was… startling.

She stood before me, her hands clasped in front of her, her eyes nervous yet determined.

“What’s your name?” I asked, my lips curving in satisfaction at the sight of her.

“Ariana, sir.” Her voice was soft. Deliberate. And just as I remembered.

I shook my head slowly.

“No, darling.”

I stood, stepping toward her, my gaze locked onto hers.

“Your name isn’t Ariana.”

I reached out, lifting her chin slightly, forcing her to look at me.

A slow, satisfied smile stretched across my lips.

“Your name is Felicity.”