Chapter 9: The Man Behind the Bars II

Lucian waited for more than ten minutes, sitting quietly on the bench with his back straight and his thoughts controlled.

Eventually, the door at the far end opened.

Scarlett and Jamie walked out together, both wearing wide smiles. Jamie looked like he'd just come back from a school trip, and Scarlett's face held a lightness that hadn't been there earlier.

Lucian stood up as they approached.

Scarlett smiled and brushed her hair behind her ear. "Hey. We're done. We'll wait for you here."

"Sure," Lucian said, then tilted his head slightly. "How was it?"

"Good," she answered quickly. "I'm sure it'll be fine."

Lucian nodded, keeping his expression calm.

As he passed them, he reached out and ruffled Jamie's head. Jamie groaned and pulled away, turning toward Scarlett immediately.

"Big sis, tell him to stop," Jamie complained, swiping at his messed-up hair.

Scarlett just laughed and patted his shoulder.

Lucian didn't look back. He was already on his way to the room.

It was his turn now.

Lucian was about to enter when one of the officers by the door stepped in front of him.

"Sir, before you enter… can we search you?" the officer asked.

Lucian nodded without hesitation. He didn't see a reason to argue. He wasn't carrying anything illegal, and this was standard procedure, especially in a place like this.

The officer began patting him down, starting from the shoulders and moving lower. After that, he pulled out a handheld metal detector and ran it over Lucian's sides, arms, and legs.

Once the scan was clear, the officer stepped back.

"Sorry for the inconvenience."

Lucian gave a small nod. "Just doing your job."

He adjusted his shirt and took a deep breath as he walked toward the door.

This was it.

Time to face the man behind the bars.

Lucian entered the visitation room.

It was larger than he expected, with about ten tables spread across the space. Each one had people sitting across from inmates.

Some had small children sitting on their laps. Some were alone. Others just sat in silence, holding hands or looking down.

He scanned the room slowly.

In the far corner, a man sat alone.

Lucian paused as his eyes settled on him.

There was no mistaking it.

The man had a lean frame, short-cropped hair, and the same face Lucian saw every time he looked in the mirror.

His skin was a shade darker, but their features were nearly identical. Even the way he sat, quiet, upright, alert, felt familiar.

It didn't take much effort to see they were father and son.

Lucian walked forward, his steps measured and quiet.

As he got closer, he saw the moment his father noticed him. His eyes widened in surprise. That expression lingered for a second, pure disbelief, before it slowly shifted into something else.

A smile.

Not a forced one. It looked real. His father's face lit up like he hadn't expected to see Lucian in this lifetime, let alone today.

Lucian reached the table and sat down across from him.

Neither of them said a word.

Diego opened his mouth, his smile widening.

"¡Coño, pero mírate, muchacho! ¡Qué sorpresa más buena!" ("Damn, look at you, kid! What a great surprise!")

Lucian looked down for a second, then raised his eyes and replied, his voice steady but not cold.

"No sabía si debía venir… pero aquí estoy." ("I didn't know if I should come… but here I am.")

They sat in the silence that followed, the words hanging between them, simple, but enough to start something.

Lucian leaned forward slightly, his voice low.

"Who do you owe?"

Diego raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. "I don't follow… what do you mean, who do I owe?"

Lucian took a deep breath through his nose.

He had already told himself he wasn't here for bonding or closure. He wasn't here to fix anything.

"I meant… who do you owe?" he repeated. "Who have you pissed off enough that they'd come after us?"

Diego's face shifted. The smile faded. He looked away for a second, eyes drifting to the corner of the room.

"Hijo…" he said softly, then switched back to English. "Son, I don't understand what you're talking about."

Lucian stared at him. He didn't respond.

His right hand began to fidget again, thumb pressing into his palm over and over, trying to ease the tension building in his chest.

Diego glanced back at him, then tried to change the subject.

"How long has it been? Ten years?" he said, voice lighter. "You've grown. Your sister didn't tell me you were coming."

Lucian didn't answer.

He kept silent, eyes on the table, hand still fidgeting.

He wasn't here for compliments.

He was here for the truth.

Lucian finally spoke again, his voice firmer than before.

"Look… I'm not here to play your games. Tell me who is coming to kill my family. If you try to ignore me or dodge the question again, I swear I'll punch your eye to the back of your head."

His hand gripped the edge of the table tightly, the metal creaking slightly under his fingers.

Diego's eyes dropped to his son's hand, then slowly lifted back up to meet his gaze.

His face changed.

Eyes wide. Jaw stiff.

"You're one of them," Diego said quietly. "But how… no—no, to get this kind of presence, you'd have to sacrifice someone."

Lucian's chair scraped as he started to rise, his breath heavy, but before he could take a step back, Diego reached across the table and grabbed his wrist with surprising speed. At the same time, he stomped hard on Lucian's foot beneath the table.

"Stop, you idiot," Diego hissed, keeping his grip tight. "Not here."

Lucian looked down at his father's hand on his own.

He didn't pull away.

Instead, he closed his eyes for a moment, trying to push the tension down. He shook his head slightly.

He hadn't come here to lose control. But something was happening, something in him felt wrong.

In his past life, he had never been someone who claimed to master his emotions, but he was never this bad.

He could get angry, sure, but it didn't burn like this. It didn't feel like a blackout was brushing the edge of his mind.

But now, it was like something inside him pushed too hard, too fast. As if the rage had hands of its own.

Lucian clenched his jaw and took a slow breath.

He needed to stay in control.