Chapter 4 LUCIEN'S POV

"Why do you have a photo of our mother?" Mia asked.

Her voice cracked like thunder, and the picture trembled in her hand. Her fingers were shaking, and I could already feel Ivy's stare burning through me from the other side of the room.

"Answer her," Ivy said. "Right now."

I stepped forward, slow, careful. "Put the photo down, Mia."

"No. Who took this? Why do you have it? What the hell is going on?"

"That picture shouldn't even exist."

"But it does," Ivy said. "And it's in your home. Explain."

"It's complicated."

"You're the one who keeps saying you don't lie. So tell the truth."

I looked at the photograph again. It was old, mid-nineties, blurred at the edges. My arms around a woman with long dark hair, laughing into her coffee like we were in our own world.

"I didn't know she was your mother," I said finally.

"That's convenient," Ivy shot back. "Try again."

"I met her when I was nineteen. She was working a side job. We talked a few times. She helped me through something I wasn't handling well. I didn't know her real name."

Mia's hand shook harder. "You were friends?"

"No. Not exactly. She was kind to me. That's all I'll say about it."

"You're lying," Ivy said.

"I'm not."

"Then what was her name?"

"I only knew her as Elena."

"That's her middle name."

I nodded. "Then I'm not lying."

"Why would you keep that photo?" Mia asked.

"Because she was one of the only people who ever looked at me like I wasn't a weapon."

"You kept that secret while planning to marry her daughter?"

"I didn't know until I saw your files. That's why I looked deeper. I thought it was a coincidence at first."

"And then?"

"I found her obituary. I didn't go to the funeral. I didn't think I had a right to."

Ivy looked sick. "You manipulated your way into our lives, and you're standing there like it was some accident."

"I offered you a deal. I didn't know I had a history with your family until after."

"You expect me to believe this wasn't part of your plan?"

"If it was, I would have played it differently."

Mia dropped the photo onto the table like it burned.

"Was she one of your flings?" Ivy asked.

"No. I was too broken back then to be anyone's anything. She saw that. She didn't try to fix me. She listened."

"And now you're trying to fix us?"

"No. I'm trying to protect you."

"You're not doing a great job."

I stepped closer to Ivy. "I never meant for this to happen."

"But it did."

"Yes."

"And now what?"

"I still want to marry you."

She let out a breathless laugh. "Are you serious?"

"This doesn't change the contract."

"It changes everything."

"You said yes before you knew. That means something."

"It means I was stupid."

"It means you were desperate. Like me."

"You think this is bonding?"

"I think it's truth."

She looked away. Mia sat on the couch, arms wrapped around herself like a child.

"I need air," she muttered.

"Stay inside," I said.

"You don't get to tell her what to do," Ivy snapped.

"She's not safe."

"Because of you."

"Because of Marcus."

"You think he planted that photo?"

"I think he wanted you to find it."

Ivy crossed her arms. "Why?"

"To make you question me."

"Why would he care?"

"Because if this marriage happens, he loses his chance at the company. He wants the board to doubt me. He wants you to back out."

"And you think reminding me that you knew my mother helps him do that?"

"Yes."

Mia stood up slowly. "If you're right, what do we do?"

"You stay here. I double security. And we move the wedding date up."

Ivy blinked. "Excuse me?"

"The sooner you're my wife, the harder it is for him to tear this apart."

"You want me to walk down the aisle now?"

"Within the week."

"You're insane." Ivy said, shaking her head in disbelief.

"I'm pragmatic."

"You're strategic. There's a difference."

"That's why I'm good at this." I replied.

"And that's why I don't trust you."

"You don't need to trust me to benefit from this."

"You want me to be your shield, Lucien?"

"No. I want you to be my wife. Like you agreed."

"You're using my family history like leverage."

"No. I'm trying to stop your family history from being weaponized by someone else."

Ivy turned to Mia. "You okay?"

Mia nodded weakly. "Just tired."

"Go lie down. I'll be there in a minute."

When Mia left the room, Ivy crossed to the table and picked up the photograph again.

"She looks happy," she said quietly.

"She was. That day."

"What happened to her?"

"You know what happened."

"I want to hear it from you."

I leaned against the counter. "She got sick. I offered to help. She refused. She said her girls came first."

"She always did that."

"She told me she didn't want to owe anyone. That some debts cost more than they're worth."

Ivy turned toward me, her voice steady. "You never forgot her."

"No."

"And now you're marrying her daughter."

"I didn't plan this."

"You never plan anything that personal. Do you?"

"No."

"Then don't expect me to follow your rules anymore."

I met her eyes. "I never expected you to."

She looked down at the photo one last time, then dropped it in the drawer and slammed it shut.

"Fine. We move the wedding up. But after that, we draw lines."

"Name them."

"No more lies."

"Agreed."

"No more surprises."

"I'll try."

"And Mia stays out of this."

"I'll protect her like she's mine."

"She's not."

"I know."

The doorbell rang.

We both turned.

"I didn't order anything," Ivy said.

"I didn't either."

I walked to the intercom, checked the screen.

No one was there.

Just a black box sitting on the mat.

I opened the door, reached down, and brought it in.

Ivy stood beside me, frowning.

"Don't touch it," she said.

I popped the lid.

Inside was a single object.

A silver ring.

The same ring my father wore the night he died.

And underneath it, a note in thick red ink.

Stop pretending blood can be erased. Or next time, it won't be a warning.