"Forged in Discipline, Driven by Vengeance"

Lucian Vale stepped into his private gym, the cold steel and black marble interior reflecting the discipline he had imposed upon his body and mind. The scent of leather and iron filled the air, a stark contrast to the silk and opulence of his bedroom. No distractions. No weaknesses. Just raw strength and control.

Standing by the weight rack, Logan Briggs—a retired Navy SEAL built like a human tank—watched Lucian with a sharp, assessing gaze. He looked less like a trainer and more like someone who could break a man's ribs with a single punch. Scarred knuckles. A permanent five o'clock shadow. A stare that could cut through steel. Yet, his loyalty was absolute.

"You're late," Logan grunted, arms crossed over his chest.

Lucian smirked, rolling his shoulders. "And yet, I'm still in better shape than you, old man."

Logan snorted. "We'll see about that."

The Workout: Pushing Beyond Limits

Lucian started with pull-ups, his muscles flexing as he lifted himself effortlessly. One. Two. Three. Every rep was a reminder that his body belonged to him—not to the past, not to the accident. Perfection had to be earned.

Next, bench presses. Logan loaded the bar, arms folded as Lucian lifted the heavy plates without hesitation. His arms burned, his core tightened, but he thrived in the pain.

"More weight," Lucian ordered.

Logan arched his brow. "Pushing limits again?"

Lucian didn't answer. He simply gripped the bar and lifted.

Then came battle ropes, the heavy cables slamming against the ground in a rhythmic, punishing tempo. Sweat slicked down his chest, muscles tightening with each swing. Controlled. Precise. Dominant.

Lucian moved to boxing drills, fists colliding with the punching bag in ruthless, practised strikes. Each punch felt like a battle with his own demons—those voices in his head, the laughter, the memory of the accident. He had rebuilt himself from the ground up.

Logan observed silently before speaking. "You fight like you're waiting for war."

Lucian let out a sharp breath, wiping sweat from his brow. "Maybe I am."

Post-Workout & The Day's Plan

As he towelled off, Nina Hayes entered, her heels clicking against the marble floor. Dressed in her usual sleek, professional attire, she held a tablet in one hand, her expression poised and unreadable.

"Your morning schedule, Mr. Vale," she said smoothly. "Meetings at ten and eleven, followed by a private lunch with investors. Also, would you like your usual post-workout breakfast?"

Lucian adjusted his wristwatch. "Depends. What's on the menu?"

"Protein-packed omelette, steak, or a green detox smoothie. Logan suggested you avoid the smoothie, by the way," she added with the slightest smirk.

Logan scoffed. "No self-respecting man drinks that garbage."

Lucian chuckled. "Steak, then."

As Nina made a note, Lucian exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders. Another day. Another calculated move. But beneath the power, beneath the control—revenge was waiting to be served.