Asking for the impossible

A cold fury bubbled beneath Lucian's calm exterior. He despised the Council's meddling in his life, and their constant reminders of the curse that plagued him.

"And this stupid match with the daughter of an outcast is supposed to be the solution?" he asked, his voice dripping with annoyance.

"She is the product of a very unique blood contract. Her capabilities are insane," the man replied. "She carries an immunity that could stabilize your condition. You two need to become one, otherwise, the curse will consume you."

Lucian's fists clenched at his sides. The thought of relying on someone else—of being forced into this twisted genetic contract—was unbearable. But the alternative…

The pain from earlier flared in his memory, a stark reminder of the perfectly hidden helplessness slowly consuming him.

"And if I refuse?" he asked, his voice low.

The representative's gaze hardened. "The Council isn't giving you a choice. Serena Alaric is being brought to the research center as we speak. You can cooperate, or you can face the consequences of defiance.

Lucian stared at the man, his mind calculating. The Council's control over the mafia world was absolute, their power enforced through a web of fear and manipulation. Even someone like him—a syndicate leader—wasn't immune to their reach.

Finally, he exhaled sharply, the decision already made. "I'll be there in an hour," he said, his tone clipped. "And this better not be a waste of my precious time."

The representative inclined his head. "You'd be surprised. The Council isn't there for child's play."

Lucian turned on his heel, his coat billowing behind him as he strode out of the room. He didn't trust the Council, didn't trust their promises or their motives. But for now, he had no choice.

Even if he didn't care for his life, defiance would cost him everything he had worked hard for. And that was one thing he didn't want.

As he climbed the stairs to his private quarters, his expression remained as cold as ice. He poured himself a glass of whiskey, staring out at the city lights below.

For years, he had ruled with an iron fist, his reputation built on fear and ruthlessness. But tonight, he could feel something was about to change, and he couldn't fathom why it bothered him so much.

Lifting the glass to his lips, he downed the whiskey in one burning gulp.

Minutes later, he was already in the car with Adrian, driving out of the estate. The car slowed down just outside the gate, when he caught sight of two familiar faces approaching the house.

"Good evening, Mr Draven," the middle-aged woman bowed her head the moment the tinted glass was wound down. She was a tall woman with a slim figure, and a face that showed the manifestation of the handiwork of time.

"Boss," the man beside her also gave a bow. He was one of Lucian's men.

"Dr. Marlowe," Lucian acknowledged the woman's greeting.

"I came as promised with the files and documents, but it looks like you're heading out."

"Council called. You can wait for me inside. Darrell will keep you entertained."

"Council?" Dr. Marlowe asked, an evident strain on her face as surprise registered. "Is everything alright?"

"They found me a match." Lucian revealed, watching with restrained amusement as shock overtook the woman's features.

"Did you ask for one?"

"I don't remember doing that. I'll be sure to remind them not to just randomly match people without at least informing them." Lucian answered, adjusting his right sleeve.

"I don't mean to pry, Mr Draven, but who—"

"Serena Alaric." Lucian cut her off, already knowing what her next question would be.

What he didn't expect was the woman's expression. Her eyes stretched so wide and she looked like she just heard the most shocking thing ever.

"Serena? How did they find her? Oh God, this is bad!! This is not good!!" She began to panic, darting her eyes around.

"What is going on, Marlowe?" Lucian threw the questions, narrowing his eyes as he found the woman's behavior to be abnormal and suspicious.

"We'll talk about it when you're back." Dr. Marlowe calmed herself down, looking rather sober while adding, "but please, Mr Draven, I know you owe me nothing. I just need to ask a favor. Treat her well."

Lucian narrowed his eyes further before a sudden coldness overtook his features.

"I'll see you when I get back, doctor," he spoke in the most emotionless voice she had heard, then signalled for Adrian to continue on their journey.

Dr Marlowe watched as the car moved farther and farther away from her, until it was no longer in sight. She let out a sigh and turned around, only to catch Darrell giving her an incredulous stare.

"What?" Dr Marlowe asked, confused.

"Did you just ask my boss to treat somebody well?" Darrell asked, his tone matching the intensity of his stare.

"Anything wrong with that?"

Darrell shook his head. "You really have no idea. You are asking for the impossible."

"There's no impossibility here. I'm only giving him a heads up, after all, she is going to be living here, as his wife. That girl has gone through a lot already."

Darrell let out a chuckle. "I hope she's a badass. If not, I'm pretty sure she won't survive here."

"Stop being pessimistic."

"Pessi…" Darrell cut his word short, laughing harder. "Have you seen his women?" He asked with an incredulous tone. "As crazy as they all are, they can barely match his intensity. Trust me when I tell you that the only reason they keep coming back is because of the money." Darrell turned toward the house and started walking. Doctor Marlowe followed shortly after.

A few moments of silence passed between them before Darrell broke it. "Lucian doesn't treat people well, doctor, especially women. And you know damn well what I'm talking about."