Lucien Hart leaned back in his high backed leather chair, eyes closed letting the silence of his office wrap around him. For a few precious minutes, he allowed himself to rest.
The hum of the city outside barely reached him. Inside was quiet, too quiet. The kind of quiet that pressed against your chest and made your heartbeat feel loud.
And then it started.
The memory.
The night his father died, it rained. Not the gentle type, but the kind that felt heavy like the sky itself was mourning something it couldn't save.
I was seventeen
And I remembered everything.
The sound of thunder cracking through the silence. The smell of blood in the air. And the way my father looked at me...like he already knew he was about to leave.
"Lucien..."
His voice was weak, nothing like the powerful man everyone feared. I held his hands tightly, my fingers trembling "Don't talk, you'll be fine. The ambulance is coming."
But he shook his head "No... listen to me"
There was something in his eyes, not fear, not regret, something worse, Urgency.
"He didn't" he coughed, blood staining his lips." It wasn't supposed to happen like this"
My heart dropped
"Who?" I asked, my voice breaking " who did this to you?"
For a moment, he hesitated
And then... He said a name
He could still hear it echoing in his head, even after all these years.
"Reyes"
Lucien's jaw tightened for a moment, he let the anger wash over him, cold and sharp. He had waited for so long.
A soft knock at the door broke the spell.
"Sir..." A voice called, respectful, cautious.
"The file you requested... they're here."
Lucien's eyes opened slow and calculating. He didn't move immediately, just listened to the footsteps approach,measured, deliberate.
The file landed on his desk with a soft thud.
He didn't touch it at first, didn't look. He only started at the ceiling, letting his thoughts settle like storm clouds before the lightning.
Finally, his fingers moved,slow, deliberate. He opened the folder and the first thing that hit him was the photograph inside.
Dark hair, calm eyes, unaware, untouched, unprotected.
"Noah Reyes..."
He smirked.
---------
Lucien closed the file.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Like he was sealing something far more dangerous than paper inside it.
"Cancel my evening schedule," he said, already reaching for his coat.
"Yes, sir."
-----
The bar was dimly lit, quieter than most, tucked away from the chaos of the city. It wasn't a place people stumbled into by accident.
It was chosen.
Lucien walked in like he owned the silence.
"Late as usual."
The voice came from the far end of the bar.
Victor Kane. His best friend
Leaning back casually, a glass in his hand, eyes already studying Lucien like he could read right through him.
Lucien took the seat opposite him. "You're still here, so I'm not that late."
Victor smirked. "Fair."
A glass was placed in front of Lucien without him asking.
Victor's gaze didn't leave his face. "So… you finally found him."
Not a question.
A statement.
Lucien picked up the drink, his movements slow, controlled. "Noah Reyes."
The name sat heavily between them.
Victor exhaled softly, shaking his head. "After all these years…"
Lucien didn't respond.
Didn't need to.
Victor leaned forward slightly, his tone dropping. "And? What's the plan?"
A pause.
Then—
"I'm going to ruin him."
Simple.
Cold.
Certain.
Victor watched him carefully, like he was measuring something. "You've been saying that since you were seventeen."
"And I meant it then."
"And now?"
Lucien's eyes darkened.
"I mean it more."
Silence stretched between them for a moment before Victor sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"You do realize something doesn't add up, right?"
Lucien's grip on his glass tightened slightly.
Victor continued, voice low. "Your father wasn't careless. And Noah's father… wasn't stupid enough to just throw everything away like that."
Lucien's gaze snapped to him. "Say what you're trying to say."
"I'm saying," Victor leaned in, "there's more to that night than you're willing to admit."
For a second—
Just a second—
Something flickered in Lucien's eyes.
Doubt.
But it disappeared just as quickly.
"It doesn't matter," Lucien said flatly.
Victor leaned back again, studying him. "It will. Eventually."
Lucien ignored that.
Instead, he reached into his coat and placed the file on the table, sliding it slightly toward Victor.
Victor opened it.
His brows lifted.
"Oh," he muttered. "He's not where I expected."
Victors voice was calm. Too calm.
"He moved."
Victor flipped through a few pages. "Different city. Low profile. No connections to his father's past."
A pause.
Then a small, surprised chuckle.
"Well… that's new."
Lucien didn't react.
Victor tapped one of the pages lightly. "You see this?"
Lucien's gaze flicked down.
A report.
Short.
Direct.
Involvement in multiple fights. No official charges. Highly skilled.
Victor looked up. "Your 'target' isn't as harmless as you thought."
Lucien's expression didn't change.
But his interest sharpened.
"Good," he said quietly.
Victor blinked. "Good?"
Lucien's lips curved slightly—not a smile, not quite.
"If he breaks easily, then this would be boring."
Victor stared at him for a moment before shaking his head.
"You're insane."
"Maybe."
Lucien stood up, taking the file with him.
"But I'm also right."
Victor watched him as he turned to leave. "Just don't lose control."
Lucien paused at the door.
For a brief second, the noise of the bar faded into nothing.
"Control," he repeated softly.
Then he glanced back, his eyes cold.
"I've had nothing but control for years."
And with that—
He walked out.
Leaving behind the silence.
And the beginning of something far more dangerous than revenge.