The Bait and the Trap

As the door clicked shut behind him, Lucian pulled off his gloves and tossed them onto the mahogany desk. His breaths were measured, controlled, but his jaw was clenched so tightly it ached.

He turned back to the tablet, his gaze burning into Celeste Carter's photograph.

And then, slowly, his eyes drifted to the woman beside her.

Ana Monroe.

Time stopped.

The air in the lavish office felt thicker, suffocating, as if the walls were closing in. His pulse thundered against his skull, but outwardly, he remained motionless—staring at the face he thought he'd never see again.

The woman who had betrayed him. The woman who had ruined him.

For eleven years, her ghost had lurked in the corners of his mind—a whisper in his nightmares, a shadow in his every success. And now, she was here. Alive. Smiling. As if she had never taken everything from him.

Lucian's fingers curled into a fist, his knuckles turning white.

A bitter smirk ghosted over his lips.

"Found you."

The past had finally walked back into his hands—and this time, she wasn't getting away.

The Bar of Vengeance – A Night of Plans and Whiskey

The air inside Lucian Vale's private bar was thick with the scent of aged whiskey and quiet power. Dim golden lights cast a sultry glow over the polished marble counter, reflecting against the crystal glassware. Behind the bar, an array of the world's most expensive liquors gleamed like trophies of conquest. It was a room built for indulgence—sleek leather chairs, dark oak, and an atmosphere of controlled luxury.

Lucian sat at the head of it all, one hand wrapped around a tumbler of whiskey. His other hand rested on the armrest of his high-backed chair, fingers tapping in an unhurried rhythm. Across from him, Logan leaned back, his muscled frame relaxed but his sharp gaze unwavering. Nina, in her tailored black dress, scrolled through her tablet with the same poise as always, but even she couldn't ignore the tension in the room.

Logan, sitting across from him, raised a brow as he knocked back his own drink.

"You drink on very rare occasions, Lucian," Logan noted, his rough voice cutting through the stillness. "What's going on?"

Lucian exhaled through his nose, his grip tightening around the glass. "I saw her today." The words were low, edged with both anger and an unsettling satisfaction.

Logan set his drink down, exchanging a glance with Nina, who sat beside him, tablet in hand. She hesitated before tapping the screen and turning it toward Lucian.

"We've found nothing on her for eleven years," Nina murmured, her polished nails gliding over the tablet. "No trace. No whispers. Until today."

Lucian's gaze flickered down as Nina pulled up Celeste Carter's Facebook profile. A grid of high-quality photos filled the screen—elegant parties, rooftop dinners, designer clothes hugging her flawless curves.

"She's… not less than a model," Nina commented, scrolling through images of Celeste in form-fitting dresses, her blonde hair cascading over one shoulder, her sultry gaze locked onto the camera. "Twenty-eight years old. Single. Graduated top of her class. Lived in Miami for the past five years before moving here."

Lucian studied the images. There was a certain carelessness in Celeste's posts, an air of privilege and beauty that made her seem untouchable. But no one was untouchable—not in his world.

"And she's coming in for the interview… when?" Lucian asked, his voice dangerously calm.

"Wednesday." Nina met his gaze. "She's applied for a senior executive assistant role."

Lucian took another slow sip of whiskey before setting the glass down. His lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Get me everything on her. Where she goes, who she talks to, what she does when she thinks no one is watching." His eyes darkened. "And most importantly… I want to know exactly how close she is to my enemy."

Logan smirked, already anticipating the orders that would follow. "I'll take care of it. What about tapping Miss Carter's phone? I have a few… creative ways to do it."

Lucian glanced at him. "I'm listening."

Logan leaned in slightly, the dim glow of the bar casting sharp shadows across his face. His smirk widened, filled with something dark and knowing. He set his glass down with a soft clink and tapped his fingers against the polished wood.

"There are a few ways we could do this," he began, his voice low, measured. "The easiest? Slip a tracker into her phone. A quick brush against her handbag in the lobby, and she'll never notice a thing. We'll get her calls, messages—hell, even her location in real time."

Lucian tilted his glass, watching the whiskey swirl. He didn't respond, just waited for Logan to continue.

"But that's just basic surveillance," Logan added, his grin turning sharper. "If you want real insight into what she's thinking… I could have someone send her a link, disguised as an exclusive job-related email. One click, and we'll have access to her entire phone—texts, voice memos, private conversations. Everything."

Nina arched an eyebrow, adjusting her position in the plush leather chair. "And if she doesn't fall for it?" she asked, her voice smooth but slightly skeptical.

Logan shrugged. "Then we go old-school. Plant a bug in her apartment, wiretap her Wi-Fi, or—" He leaned back with a smirk. "—send in a man to get close to her. Women like her? They always have a weakness."

Lucian finally spoke, his voice cold, cutting through the air like a blade.

"I don't want any mistakes."

Logan's smirk didn't waver, but his posture shifted slightly, the weight of the order settling in.

Lucian placed his glass down, the soft sound echoing in the quiet room. "Get it done. I want access to everything—her past, her present, and whatever future she thinks she has." His jaw tensed slightly, the controlled rage barely contained beneath the surface. "And I want to know how close she is to her."

Nina, still holding her tablet, scrolled through Celeste Carter's social media, her red-painted nails tapping lightly against the glass. "She posts often," she murmured, tilting the screen toward Lucian. "But nothing personal. Just polished, professional images. Networking events, expensive dinners, the usual."

Lucian glanced at the screen. The photos were calculated—carefully curated glimpses into a life that was meant to look effortless. But he knew better.

Then, Nina swiped again.

A different photo. A candid one.

Celeste, alone at a café, staring out the window. No pose, no smile. A flicker of something in her expression—distant, guarded.

"When she thinks no one is watching," Nina murmured.

Lucian exhaled slowly, his fingers tapping against his glass. His eyes darkened with thought.

"She has secrets," he muttered, mostly to himself.

Logan chuckled. "That's what makes it fun."

Lucian ignored him. His mind was already working, calculating the next move.

"Make sure she gets the job," he ordered finally, his tone leaving no room for argument. "And when she steps into my world, she won't even realise she's already caught."

He leaned back in his seat, his expression unreadable.

"She'll lead us to her—whether she wants to or not."