"It seems there's a misunderstanding."
The sentence came softly, almost tender. But for Ashen, it struck like an unseen slap, jolting him out of his anger.
"When I said I was apologizing… it wasn't for tricking you." Her lips curled faintly. "That was entirely your fault. Life doesn't protect the gullible, Mr. Hart. If I hadn't taken advantage of you… Someone else would have."
Ashen's jaw tightened. His fists clenched so hard his knuckles went white, but no words left his mouth.
Because, no matter how bitter it tasted… the rational part of him knew she was right.
Lucia didn't even spare his restrained fury a glance.
"What I am sorry for," she went on, her voice matter-of-fact, "is failing to see your value."
"..."
She took his silence as permission to continue.
"When I first looked into you, I barely paid attention. I dismissed you as just another self-proclaimed genius, a dime-a-dozen fraud. Nothing more."
She paused, whether in regret or calculation, he couldn't tell.
"But that was my mistake."
Her eyes glittered, sharp, cold, and far too clear.
"Sometimes… the imitation, in its desperate struggle to be real, ends up shining brighter than the genuine article."
An enigmatic smile tugged at her lips.
"I'm sure you endured hell to catch the notice of even my superiors. It was truly my error not to recognize someone who had it in them to claw their way into the spotlight."
Ashen's fists slowly relaxed. His anger, like a wave crashing against stone, receded into uneasy calm.
He could tell… She was twisted, ruthless, and unreasonable.
But it seemed she was just as hard on herself as she was on him.
And ironically… she wasn't entirely wrong.
He had been a true genius once, back in Esperra. Before he lost his Brilliant trait.
But now he was nothing more than a fake, just as she claimed.
But he didn't correct her. There was no point.
"...Your way of apologizing is certainly unique," he said dryly. "What makes you think I won't just find another recruiter, just to spite you after hearing all this?"
Lucia's serene expression didn't waver.
"Then I'll accept that outcome," she replied. "Just like you accepted the consequences of your naivety… and paid the price by surviving long enough to stand here before me."
Before Ashen could even retort, another uninvited guest barged into their little standoff.
"Lucia! Still conning poor souls into indentured servitude, I see."
The voice belonged to a man in an offensively white suit, the kind of white that screamed look at me! ...or perhaps look how little blood I've had to clean off today!
He dragged a chair next to Lucia without so much as a glance for permission, flashing a grin that belonged on a shark circling a bleeding swimmer.
Lucia's smile thinned. "Roland."
He tapped two fingers to his brow in a mock salute. "The one and only."
Then his eyes flicked to Ashen, "Hart, right? Heard you're in the market for a new recruiter. Lucky you, I offer actual contracts. With words. Paper. None of that fine print about organ donations or soul-binding clauses."
"...Pleasure to meet you," he deadpanned.
But then, his gaze slid toward Lucia, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He's got jokes, at least.
Lucia's fingers twitched against her skirt. "Roland, this is a private discussion."
"Oh, I'm sure it was." Roland crossed his arms like a man settling in for dinner. "But let's be real here, Ashen's got options now. And I do love poaching your clients."
Ashen didn't move. He fell silent as well, content to simply watch their exchange. 'This is getting interesting.'
But Lucia hadn't forgotten her purpose here. Even with Roland's attempts at distraction, her focus never wavered from him.
She exhaled slowly through her nose, a warning more than a breath. "Mr. Hart, Roland's contracts have a habit of leaving clients dead within five years."
Roland barked a short laugh. "And yours leave them wishing they were."
He leaned in slightly, his grin all sharp edges. "Let me clue you in, Hart. This woman? She works for Cornelia. Ring any bells? No? Well, she's got her pretty little faction parked right on the frontlines. That's where you go if you sign with her. Straight to the meat grinder."
Ashen's brow twitched. 'Fantastic. Another reason to keep ten miles between me and this con artist.'
Lucia's voice dropped, silk over steel. "Ashen, I keep my investments alive. You won't need to concern yourself with this man's lies."
"Sure." Roland scoffed. "Alive, sure. Miserable, broken, but technically breathing."
He clapped Ashen on the shoulder, uninvited, of course. "Look, man. Ditch this snake. Come with me. Gluttony City, heart of the human territory. No trenches. No blood-soaked dirt. Just vice, luxury, and living easy."
His voice lowered, conspiratorial. "Not even a hard choice, is it? No need to overthink it."
Ashen glanced between them, one cold and calculating, the other too slick to be trusted.
He rubbed his temple, an ache blooming behind his eyes. 'Do I seriously only get to pick between these two devils?'
A bitter thought clawed its way up. 'If I could go back six months… I'd slap the hell out of my past self.'
Still, he stood. He gestured to Roland with a lazy tilt of his chin. "Lead the way."
"Wise choice."
Roland's grin stretched wider, all teeth, as he shot Lucia a smug look that practically dripped with gotcha.
Ashen followed, his steps steady, but his heart was beating a little too fast for comfort.
'Is this really the right choice?'
He shook his head. It didn't matter. No matter how honest Lucia seemed, she'd already deceived him once.
And as the saying goes, once bitten, twice shy.
Besides… part of him, the petty part, just wanted to see her lose.
This was the best way he could think of to make her pay.
But even as he walked, a bitter voice whispered in the back of his mind.
'So why… why do I feel like I'm walking straight into another disaster?'
His hand pressed briefly to his chest, feeling the steady drumbeat of unease.
He eyed Roland's back, the swaggering walk of a man who'd gotten what he wanted.
Ashen didn't trust him. Not for a second.
It was obvious… Roland wasn't recruiting him out of goodwill.
This was more about snatching a prize from Lucia's hands.
And Ashen hadn't forgotten the earlier remark; dead within five years.
'Another problem on my already overflowing plate.'
His eyes narrowed, mood souring.
'Now I just need to find a way to ditch this guy, too.'
Ashen sighed, long and tired.
'Why the hell does everything have to be so complicated…'
He kept pace behind Roland… that is, until a voice cut through the noise, freezing him mid-step.
"Go…BACK."