Chapter 37 The Preparation
Chapter 37 The Preparation
Luna's POV
Damien's penthouse transformed into something that looked like a military command center within hours.
Maps covered the dining table, surveillance photos were pinned to boards someone had wheeled in, and thick dossiers with Vivienne's name on them sat in neat stacks across every flat surface.
I stood in the middle of it all feeling overwhelmed by how much preparation went into a simple meeting.
"This is everything we have on Vivienne Kensington," Damien's security chief said, a former military wolf named Catherine who looked like she could kill someone with her pinky finger. "Financial records, known associates, properties she owns, places she frequents."
I picked up one of the dossiers and started reading.
Vivienne was born in 1940 to a wealthy British family with connections to old supernatural bloodlines even though they were human themselves. She grew up around wolves and Lycans and other creatures most humans never knew existed.
She was beautiful according to the photos, with dark hair and sharp features and eyes that looked calculating even in casual snapshots.
She met Damien in 1965 in London at some high society event. He was there on business, she was there hunting for a supernatural husband who could give her immortality.
"She pursued him aggressively," Catherine explained. "Showed up at his hotel, his business meetings, everywhere he went. Most men would have been flattered. Damien was annoyed."
"But he didn't send her away?" I asked.
"He tried. She didn't take no for an answer." Catherine pulled up more documents. "After six months of pursuit, she demanded he turn her. Said becoming Lycan would make her worthy of being his mate."
I looked at Damien. "What did you say?"
"I told her it doesn't work that way. That the mate bond isn't something you earn or create through transformation." His expression was grim. "I explained that I didn't feel the bond with her and turning her wouldn't change that."
"She didn't believe you," I guessed.
"She thought I was testing her devotion." He sat down heavily. "She kept pushing, kept creating situations where she needed my help or protection. Finally she engineered a scenario where I had to turn her or watch her die."
"What kind of scenario?"
"She went into a vampire nest alone and deliberately provoked them." His jaw tightened. "By the time I found her she was dying. I had two choices, turn her or let her bleed out."
The weight of that choice hung in the air between us.
"You saved her life," I said.
"Yes. And she took it as a promise of forever." He looked at me. "The moment she woke up as Lycan, she expected me to claim her as my mate. When I didn't, when I told her again that the bond didn't exist between us, something in her broke."
Catherine took over the story. "Vivienne spent the next twenty years inserting herself into every aspect of Damien's life. His business deals, his social circles, his territories. She built her own wealth and power specifically to remain in his orbit."
"Why didn't you force her out?" I asked Damien.
"I tried. Restraining orders, territorial bans, direct confrontation. Nothing worked." He stood and walked to the window. "She's patient enough to follow rules while still making sure I never forgot she existed."
I looked at the photos spread across the table, at this woman who'd spent sixty years obsessed with a man who didn't want her.
I understood that kind of obsession in ways I didn't want to admit. Tying your entire identity to another person, believing if you just tried hard enough or changed enough they'd finally see your worth.
I'd done it with Marcus, though less dramatically and for fewer years.
I saw myself in Vivienne's origin story and hated the recognition.
"The meeting tomorrow is at neutral territory," Catherine continued, pulling my attention back. "A supernatural club in downtown LA governed by ancient laws that forbid violence on the premises. It's as safe as we're going to get."
"Define safe," I said.
"No one can physically harm you there without facing immediate execution from the neutral enforcers." She pulled up a map. "But words and psychological warfare are fair game."
"So she can't hurt me but she can destroy me verbally."
"Basically yes." Catherine pointed to marked positions on the map. "We'll have security at every entrance, concealed weapons despite the no-violence policy, and three exit strategies depending on what goes wrong."
"You think something will go wrong?"
"I think Vivienne doesn't make mistakes. If she's meeting you, it's because she has a plan." Catherine looked at me directly. "My job is to make sure her plan doesn't include you leaving that club in a body bag."
The casual way she said it made my blood run cold.
We spent the next two hours going over protocols and contingencies until my head spun with information. What to wear, where to sit, what to say and not say, how to recognize threats that didn't look like threats.
By evening I was exhausted and wired at the same time.
Damien dismissed everyone and suddenly it was just us in the penthouse that still looked like a command center.
He watched me from across the room with unusual intensity, his expression troubled in ways I'd never seen before.
"You don't have to do this," he said quietly. "I can meet with Vivienne alone."
"We already agreed—"
"I know what we agreed. I'm giving you an out." He moved closer. "This meeting is dangerous in ways my security team can't fully prepare you for. Vivienne is skilled at finding weaknesses and exploiting them. She'll tear you apart psychologically and enjoy every second of it."
"I can handle it."
"I know you can. But you shouldn't have to." His eyes held mine. "This is my past, my mistake, my problem to solve."