Zara stared at the footage again, as if watching it for the first time might change something. But no—there it was. Her back pressed against the elevator wall, Lucien's hand on her waist, his mouth on her throat. Her eyes closed, lips parted. She didn't even look like herself.
It wasn't just a sex scandal. It was a betrayal of everything she had worked to bury. Every ounce of power she had reclaimed with cool calculation had crumbled under the weight of one intimate, leaked moment.
The world didn't see strategy or manipulation. They saw weakness. Lust. A woman who had sold herself for access.
And worst of all—they saw truth.
She'd told herself it was all part of the plan. That seducing Lucien had been tactical. That falling into his bed, his arms, his trust… was just another piece of her revenge. But watching the video now, she saw the lie clearly.
She hadn't been acting.
The echo of his voice still rang in her ears."We either end it or bind it."
Marriage or fallout. Union or annihilation. No middle ground.
The knock at her door was sharp. Three deliberate taps.
Zara rose, wrapping her silk robe tighter around her waist as she opened the door.
Lucien stood there in a black suit, his expression unreadable.
"You shouldn't be here," she said flatly.
He stepped inside anyway.
"You didn't answer my call," he said, voice low.
"I didn't have an answer."
"You always have an answer."
Zara walked away, grabbing the remote and muting the news broadcast showing her face side-by-side with his, flashing the now-infamous elevator footage behind them like a damn trailer.
She turned to face him. "So what now, Lucien? We pretend to be madly in love? Announce an engagement in the middle of the chaos? Feed the media a story so they forget the truth?"
He looked at her with those dark, unreadable eyes. "What truth, Zara?"
"That we used each other."
Lucien's jaw clenched. "Did we?"
She hesitated.
That pause said everything.
Lucien crossed the room slowly. "You think I leaked that footage?"
She didn't answer.
"Someone wants us to implode," he continued. "Someone who knew how dangerous we were together."
"I am imploding," she snapped. "And the only person who benefited from that video was you."
His gaze sharpened. "You think I benefited from the world seeing me like that—with you—like some reckless man who can't separate his cock from his company?"
Zara laughed bitterly. "You've never cared about appearances."
"You're wrong," he said, his voice low now. "I care more than you know."
He stepped closer. The air between them sizzled—hot, electric, volatile.
"I didn't leak the footage," he said. "But I know who did."
Her breath caught. "Who?"
Lucien hesitated, and in that moment, she saw it—hesitation, but also pain.
"Damien," he said quietly. "Orchestrated with Blackwell."
Zara's heart thudded. "You're lying."
"I wish I was. He's been positioning himself to force me out. You were the perfect distraction."
Her hands trembled at her sides. "So I was… bait."
Lucien stepped even closer. "You were never bait."
She looked away. "This is all a game to you."
"No," he said, his voice almost breaking. "This was the first thing that ever felt real."
She couldn't look at him. Couldn't believe it.
So he took her hand. Just one.
"I meant what I said," Lucien murmured. "Marry me. Make this ours before someone else burns it to the ground."
"You don't love me."
"Maybe not," he said honestly. "But I see you. And I trust you more than anyone else in this goddamn world. That's rarer than love."
Zara's voice was barely a whisper. "And if I say no?"
Lucien pulled away. The space he left behind felt hollow. "Then I release a statement. Say the footage was fake, a deepfake, whatever. I distance myself. You disappear. ValeCorp survives, and we never speak again."
Zara's throat tightened. "You'd erase me."
He looked at her for a long, long moment. "No. I'd mourn you. Quietly. Permanently."
Then he walked to the door.
"Lucien."
He stopped but didn't turn around.
"I don't know what's real anymore."
He looked over his shoulder, his expression softer than she'd ever seen. "Neither do I. But maybe that's the only real thing left."
The door shut behind him with a soft click.
Zara collapsed onto the couch, every breath feeling like a decision.
She could walk away. Save what little dignity she had left.
Or she could step into the fire—and see if anything survived the burn.