Lethal Temptation

09 (Lucian’s POV) Family Affair 2

Lucian

I was just adjusting my cufflinks, getting ready for my date with Tina, when Austin, my butler, stepped into the room with his usual composed tone.

“Master Lucian, the boutique is here to deliver your bride’s clothes.”

My bride.

The words felt like gravel in my mouth every time I heard them.

I stood and walked into the master bedroom I’d had prepped for Mara. I’d never used it. It was larger, more extravagant, more central—but I’d always preferred the smaller room. Quieter. Less suffocating. But now, someone would finally be living here. Sleeping in a bed under this roof because she had no other choice.

“Have them arrange her things in the walk-in closet,” I said. “Move my things to the wardrobe, and put the rest of my stuff in storage. I don’t use most of it anyway.”

Austin nodded, ever the quiet professional.

“Your father has invited you to a late lunch in the breakfast room,” he added. “It starts in fifteen minutes.”

I checked the time, irritated. Great. I had plans with Tina—plans that actually mattered to me—but as usual, Father’s whims trumped everything.

If he wanted something, it was dropped on my lap like gospel. No warning, no regard.

I left without responding, heading toward the right wing of the mansion—the golden, polished side of the estate where Martha, Darian, and Father lived. Everything there was curated, flashy, fake. Just like them.

Martha loved the money. Loved the title. The image. She wore luxury like armor. And yet she had the nerve to call otherwomen gold diggers, while she pretended to play noble Luna. The real digger in this house wore silk and control like a second skin.

And Darian?

He was a walking performance. The dutiful heir, the golden child. The pack believed in him like he was some messiah. But only those of us who’d seen behind the curtain knew the truth.

The girls. The lies. The messes swept under thick rugs of privilege. He got away with everything. And me? I was the one they all whispered about. The drunk. The murderer. The irresponsible son.

I stepped into the breakfast room and found them both—Father and her—eating like nothing was wrong in the world.

“Have a seat, Lucian,” my father said with a manufactured smile.

There was a thick folder on the table. Blank on the outside. I eyed it but said nothing. This was a game, and I already knew I was a piece.

“Have you finally accepted the union?” he asked, but it wasn’t a question. It was a test. And I already knew what the right answer was.

“Yes,” I said smoothly, swallowing down my resentment like it was ash.

Martha didn't miss a beat. “Make sure you keep her out of Darian’s hair.”

I wanted to speak. Gods, I wanted to snap. But I bit down on the urge.

“She’s already out of Darian’s hair,” my father said before I could respond. “She has been, ever since her parents told her about the arrangement.”

Martha rolled her eyes, dismissive as always.

“So she sent my son to fight me?” she asked, mouth tight.

“That was Darian’s choice,” Father said. “Stop trying to pin this on Mara. Did it ever occur to you that maybe—just maybe—Darian genuinely liked the girl and only stayed away because of you?”

I nearly laughed.

Darian like someone? Please.

The only person Darian had ever truly loved was himself. He kept Mara close because she worshipped him. He fed on that loyalty, that quiet hope in her eyes. And when she finally became inconvenient, he let Martha clean it up.

But I stayed silent.

“Anyway,” my father said, suddenly annoyed, “I didn’t call Lucian here to discuss Darian. You somehow always find a way to bring it back to him.”

Martha turned her head away, eyes cold and narrowed.

I stared at the file again.

And for the first time, I truly realized how deeply buried we all were in this family's lies. We were weapons. Symbols. Bargaining chips. Everything but people.

“Take this,” my father said, sliding the thick folder across the table toward me.

I didn’t move immediately.

“Sign them and keep a copy,” he added. “My signature is already there.”

I stared at the folder.

“What is it, Father?”

He sighed like he was finally ready to put something to rest.

“Since you won’t be succeeding me as Alpha,” he said, “it’s only fair I hand the company over to you.”

Martha slammed her hand down on the table.

“Impossible!” she snapped, venom lacing her voice.

My father didn’t flinch. “The deed is done, Martha. I can’t undo it.”

He looked at me again. “After your honeymoon, you’ll begin working in the company from the ground up. Learn it. Earn it. But you’ll own it, Lucian. That signature makes it official. Everything tied to the family business is yours.”

Martha reached for the folder like a predator going for prey, but I was faster. I snatched it before she could even touch the corner.

“If you give him everything,” she hissed, turning to my father, “then what’s left for me and my son?”

My father’s face hardened.

“When I mated with you, it was to raise Lucian as your own. But you made yourself his enemy, Martha. You tormented him from the beginning. If you hadn’t run your mouth about the party and the accident, he would’ve been Alpha. Youmade sure that option died.”

Her face flushed with rage, but he didn’t stop.

“Darian will be Alpha—just like you wanted. But Lucian,” he gestured toward me, “will run the business. He’ll control the wealth. And that’s the balance.”

“You’re giving a drunk—”

“Compared to Darian, he’s a saint,” my father cut in coldly.

The room went silent. My hand froze on the edge of the folder.

He wasn’t done.

“Natasha and I started those companies together,” he said, his voice quieter, heavier now. “She funded everything. Ninety percent of the capital came from her. I was drowning when she met me, and she saved me. She let me run things while she stayed in the shadows. I owe her everything.”

I looked at him, stunned. I had no idea.

“My biggest regret,” he continued, “would be handing her life’s work over to another woman’s son. I won’t do that. Darian can have the title, but the legacy—her legacy—goes to her son.”

He looked directly at me. “Take it. Or leave it.”

I gripped the folder tighter.

I would take it.

And I’d make sure Martha never touched it.

“If you die,” she said, her voice cracking now, “what happens to me? To Darian?”

My father’s expression didn’t soften.

“If you’d been a mother to Lucian, maybe I’d say he would care for you. But you’ve made sure that bridge burned. And I doubt Lucian—or the wife you forced on him—will shed a single tear for the woman who ruined their lives.”

Martha looked away, blinking fast. She was losing. Finally.

“I went along with your plan,” my father added, “because I had to protect that girl. Mara. She was too good, too promising to be thrown at Darian like another conquest. She earned her place, and I wasn’t going to let him destroy her like he did the others.”

The truth was brutal. But I respected it.

“Start your own business, Martha,” he told her. “Stop living off another woman’s sweat. Darian won’t stay Alpha long if he doesn’t learn how to lead. And he’ll never control Lucian. Everyone in this pack knows that—even if no one says it out loud.”

Then he turned to me.

“You’re in charge now. Of the company. Of your life. I won’t involve myself in your marriage—you’ll have to carry that yourself. But Mara is young. Be patient with her. I know you have a temper, Lucian. But spare that girl. None of this was her choice.”

He stood, a finality in his movement.

“That girl was meant for more than to rot at Darian’s side. Do right by her.”

I nodded once.

I didn’t say anything.

But I would sign the papers. I’d make the copies. I’d move the original to a safety deposit box Martha couldn’t sniff out if she tried.

And I’d do what my father never did for me—

I’d protect what’s mine.