The silence between them was suffocating.
Lucian's last words.
"You should go"
hung in the air like a blade pressed to her throat.
But Caliste didn't move.
Her trembling hand still rested on the doorknob, yet her feet refused to obey. For the first time since she stepped into that penthouse, she felt a rush of something unfamiliar
Defiance.
She turned slowly, her eyes glistening but determined. "No," she whispered.
Lucian's eyes snapped toward her, his expression darkening. "What did you just say?"
"I said no," Caliste whispered, her voice trembling but steady. "I'm not leaving."
His tone sharpened, the steel in his voice enough to make anyone else flinch. "Don't test my patience, Caliste."
"You can throw me out if you want," she said, stepping closer, "but I'm not leaving until you listen."
Lucian's jaw tightened. "You have no right to demand anything here."
"I'm not demanding," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I'm begging you."
He laughed bitterly, shaking his head.
"Begging?
You gave up that right the day you walked away."
Caliste's hands clenched at her sides. Her throat burned, but she held his gaze.
"You think I wanted to walk away?"
"You did walk away."
Lucian's voice thundered, raw with a mix of anger and pain.
"You signed the agreement. You erased yourself from his life as if none of it mattered!"
Her tears spilled freely now.
"It mattered to me more than anything! You think I could give birth to a child and not feel every heartbeat in my bones?"
Lucian turned away sharply, his hand raking through his hair.
"Then why?"
he demanded, his voice breaking.
"Why did you do it?"
Caliste's lips trembled.
Because your life was in danger. Because my uncle would've used our child to destroy you.
But the words died in her throat. She couldn't tell him.
Not yet.
Desmund Winslow might be gone from the empire, but his reach, his shadow, still lingered like poison in the veins of power.
If Lucian knew the truth that Desmund had threatened to take their child and use him as a pawn he would tear down everything to exact vengeance. He would burn cities, ruin empires… and she couldn't risk that.
She looked away, forcing a shaky breath. "Because I needed my freedom,"
she lied, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lucian's eyes darkened, disbelief flashing in his expression. "Freedom?"
"Yes,"
she whispered, though each word cut her from the inside.
"I wanted to live again. I didn't want to be tied down by a past that was full of pain. I wanted to regain my name, my career, my life. Isn't that what you think of me anyway? That I was selfish?"
Lucian stared at her, his expression unreadable. For a moment, it almost looked like he believed her but then, the flicker of anger returned.
"So you sold your motherhood for luxury?"
His tone dripped with disdain.
"That's what freedom meant to you?"
Caliste swallowed hard, blinking back the ache in her throat. Yes… if that's what you must believe.
Lucian stepped closer, his voice low but seething. "Do you know what I thought when I saw him for the first time?"
Caliste's breath caught.
"I thought of you,"
he said, his voice almost breaking.
"Every time he smiled. Every time he reached out for me. I saw your face. I tried to hate you, but he looked so much like you, it became impossible."
Her knees weakened, her chest tightening painfully.
"Lucian…"
He shook his head, stepping back as if to stop himself from reaching for her.
"Don't. Don't say my name like that."
Silence stretched between them, filled with all the things they never said the nights they shared, the love that turned into ruin, the child who became the line dividing them.
Caliste took a shaky breath, clutching the hem of her blouse to stop her hands from trembling.
"I just want to see him, Lucian. Once. I don't need to speak to him. Just to see that he's happy. That he's safe."
Lucian turned away, his back to her.
"You think I'd let a stranger come near my son?"
Her voice cracked.
"I'm not a stranger!"
"You are to him," Lucian said coldly. "You made sure of that."
Her tears fell silently, but she didn't back away. "I'll do anything you ask. Anything. Just let me see him, even from afar."
Lucian's hands curled into fists, his jaw tightening. "Anything?"
"Yes."
He turned slowly, his gaze piercing through her. "You'll regret that."
"I already do," she whispered. "Every day."
Lucian exhaled slowly, the fury in him simmering under the surface. He wanted to yell, to break something, to make her hurt the way he did for years but all he could do was stare at her, this woman who looked at him with the same eyes that once made him believe in love.
"Then work for me," he said finally, his voice calm but cold.
Caliste blinked, startled. "What?"
"You heard me," Lucian said, crossing his arms. "The Velmore Foundation is expanding. I need a creative director to handle our new humanitarian branch. You'll report directly to me."
Her mouth parted in disbelief. "You want me to.."
"I don't want you," he cut her off, his tone sharp. "But if you insist on seeing him, that's the condition. You'll work for me. You'll follow my rules. You won't approach him without my consent."
Caliste's chest rose and fell, her emotions tangled between hope and dread.
"So I can see him?" she asked softly.
"You'll see him when I say it's appropriate," Lucian replied, his tone like ice.
Relief trembled through her chest, though she kept her voice steady. "All right. I'll accept it."
Lucian's eyes hardened.
"Don't thank me. This isn't generosity. This is control. Remember that."
Caliste nodded faintly, holding back the tears that threatened to fall.
"You can control everything, Lucian but not how much I care for him."
His gaze softened for a brief moment, something flickering behind his cold façade but then he turned away, shutting the emotion out as quickly as it came.
"You'll start next week," he said flatly.
"The contract will be sent to your office."
She turned toward the door, her heart aching as she whispered, "Thank you."
Lucian didn't respond.
Caliste hesitated at the threshold, glancing back at him. His tall frame stood by the window, shoulders rigid, his reflection split against the glass half shadow, half light.
"Lucian…" she began, her voice breaking.
"For what it's worth, I never stopped thinking of him."
He turned his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "You shouldn't start now."
The words hit her like a final blow. She nodded faintly, blinking back the sting in her eyes.
As she stepped out of the penthouse, the air felt colder, heavier. The city lights glimmered beyond the balcony, mocking her with their brightness.
But inside, Lucian stood unmoving.
When the sound of the elevator doors faded, he finally allowed himself to exhale.
His hand trembled as he loosened his tie and poured himself a drink he didn't touch. Her voice still echoed in his head, that fragile whisper of I just want to see him.
He wanted to believe she had no heart that she sold her motherhood for freedom. But deep inside, he knew better.
He remembered the look in her eyes when she said the word safe.
Why safe? Why not happy?
What was she protecting him from?
Lucian clenched his jaw, unease crawling through his chest. There were pieces missing, a truth she hadn't told him. And that truth whatever it was made his blood run cold.
Because if Caliste had lied to protect someone…
Then someone else was still out there.
Watching.
Waiting.
---
Later that night
Caliste sat in the back of the taxi, her hands trembling in her lap.
Her reflection on the window stared back at her a ghost of the woman she used to be.
The city lights blurred in streaks of gold as she whispered to herself, "I'm sorry, Lucian."
Her mind replayed that day three years ago, when Desmund Winslow cornered her in the park.
> "Get pregnant with Lucian child," he had whispered, his smile a venomous curve.
"He will be my key to Velmore. My leverage. Do this, and your father walks free."
She remembered the feel of the contract in her trembling hands. The ink that sealed her fate. The sound of her newborn's cry muffled behind the door.
She had sold her name, her motherhood everything just to make sure Desmund never laid a finger on her child.
And now, sitting in the cab that drove her away from Lucian's penthouse, she knew she would have to live with that lie for as long as she breathed.
Even if it meant letting Lucian believe she was heartless.
Even if it meant he would never know the truth that she had destroyed herself to protect the family she once loved.
---
Meanwhile, back in the penthouse
Lucian stood by the window long after she was gone. His hand rested on the cool glass, the city reflecting in his sharp eyes.
Every memory of Caliste came rushing back the warmth of her laughter, the quiet strength in her touch, the look in her eyes when she told him she was pregnant.
He wanted to hate her for her betrayal. But hate was too simple for what he felt.
It was fury tangled with longing. Regret bound to a wound that refused to heal.
He closed his eyes, and in the silence of his penthouse, he murmured, almost bitterly,
"She said she wanted freedom… but her eyes said fear."
His fingers curled against the glass.
Something didn't add up.
And deep inside, he knew..
Caliste was still keeping a secret.
And whatever it was… it involved the one thing that could destroy them both.