Lucien POV
The heavy glass doors of L'Aube hadn't even finished closing shut behind us before I had my phone in my hand. The night air was cold, with the smell of impending rain, but the atmosphere inside my chest was not close to cold.
I didn't hesitate or have a second thought when I made the call.
"Start pulling Thorne Group stock down," I said, my voice dropping into that dead-serious tone I used for executions. "Pull it down to ten percent before the Tokyo market even opens."
"Start with the institutional sell-offs. A slow bleed, nothing that triggers a circuit breaker yet. I want them to feel the oxygen leaving the room before they realize the windows are sealed." I finished giving the instructions.
Then there is a pause on the other end with the sound of my analyst scrambling for a pen, then he responds: "Understood, sir. Consider it done."
I ended the call and slid the phone into my pocket.
