The room within the casino was unlike anything Lucien had ever seen. Luxury draped every surface-plush, deep-red carpets muffled his footsteps, and walls of dark mahogany gleamed under soft, golden lighting. Strange paintings adorned the room: abstract figures that seemed to twist and stretch when viewed from different angles, and hauntingly beautiful portraits whose eyes followed him as he moved.
Lucien stood near the center, taking in the opulence. Silas Crowe gestured toward a pair of high-backed chairs beside a polished office table.
"Please, sit," Silas said, his voice smooth, commanding yet inviting.
Lucien lowered himself into one of the chairs, crossing his arms as he watched. Silas poured a deep red wine into two crystal glasses, the liquid catching the light like liquid rubies. He approached Lucien, handing him one glass, and took the other for himself.
"Your name?" Silas asked casually, swirling the wine in his glass.
"Lucien Hale," he replied.
"And do you work?"
"I'm currently unemployed," Lucien said, shrugging lightly.
A smile crept across Silas Crowe's face. "I've been watching you for a while. You strike me as someone... who would do anything for money."
Lucien's expression remained guarded, though a flicker of curiosity passed through his eyes. "Well... it depends on what it is," he said.
Silas settled into his office chair, resting his elbows on the table and crossing his hands beneath his chin, his gaze sharpening as he studied Lucien. "I wonder... what do you think of art?" he asked, tilting his head thoughtfully.
"I don't know, and I don't really care," Lucien replied bluntly. "You said you could give me money. I want to know how."
Silas's smile widened, and he rose, walking over to one of the strange paintings on the wall. His fingers brushed the canvas lightly, reverently, as he spoke. "Art," he said, his voice soft but carrying weight, "is more than paint and brush. It is the echo of a soul, the trace of thought and feeling captured for eternity. Look at this one-see how the colors clash and yet somehow harmonize? Every stroke is intentional, yet spontaneous. It breathes. It moves. It challenges. True art... it doesn't just sit there-it speaks, if you know how to listen."
Lucien leaned back, expression unmoved. "What do you need from me?" he asked, voice flat.
Silas turned, eyes glinting with amusement. "You are a straightforward man. I like that," he said, his tone shifting to something more serious. "I want you to steal a painting for me. In return... I will pay you handsomely."
"How much?" Lucien asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.
Silas's lips curved into a knowing smile. "How about... one hundred thousand dollars?"
Lucien's jaw dropped. A hundred thousand... he thought, his mind racing. It was risky, yes-but with that money, he could pay off his loan and still have some left over.
"Okay," he said finally, his voice steady. "I'm in."
Silas's smile deepened as he returned to his chair. "I knew you would agree," he said, his tone satisfied and calm. "Meet me tomorrow at the location. I'll send you the details later."
Lucien rose, adjusting his jacket as he made his way to the door. Behind him, Silas watched, smiling, a glint of something unreadable in his bright brown eye.
Lucien returned to his blackjack table, sliding back into his seat as the dealer shuffled the cards. He focused on the game, though the losses from earlier still weighed on his mind.
A soft movement caught his attention. A woman approached, gliding through the casino with an elegance that made the crowd around her blur into insignificance. Her blonde hair fell in soft waves, framing a face with striking brown eyes. She wore a red, straight dress that traced the contours of her figure, radiating sophistication and subtle seduction with every step.
As she reached him, her gaze met his, and she leaned slightly forward. "May I ask your name?" she said, her voice smooth, teasing.
For a moment, Lucien was struck. Wow... But he quickly shook his head and composed himself. "Why do you want to know?" he asked, a hint of suspicion in his tone.
She smiled, a knowing curve of her lips. "I just want to get to know you. I find you... handsome. And interesting."
Lucien's gaze lingered for a moment, then he rose from the table. The dealer looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Not playing again?"
"Yes," Lucien said curtly.
The woman stepped closer. "May I accompany you? Perhaps have a drink together?"
Lucien hesitated, then shook his head. "I have something I need to do."
He began to walk away, weaving through the casino crowd. The woman followed, graceful and deliberate-but then her heel caught on the floor, and she stumbled. In an instant, Lucien's hands went to her waist, steadying her before she could fall.
"Are you okay?" he asked, still holding her gently.
She nodded, brushing a strand of hair from her face. Lucien's eyes widened as it hit him-he was holding her waist. He quickly let her go, stepping back with an apologetic expression.
"I... I'm sorry," he said.
"It's okay," she replied, her smile warm, forgiving.
Lucien turned and started walking toward the casino exit. Behind him, she watched, her own lips curling into a playful smile.
"I hope we meet again," she called softly.
Lucien glanced over his shoulder, simply smiling at her. He didn't say a word, then continued walking, leaving the lights and chaos of the casino behind him.