Lucian Blackwood (POV)
The room reacted exactly as I expected.
Shock. Curiosity. Fear.
Power always rearranged itself when claimed publicly.
Amara stood beside me, spine straight, chin lifted—holding herself together with sheer will. The cameras loved her. The vultures did too.
I felt her fingers tighten slightly around mine as applause rippled through the hall.
Good.
Let them see.
I guided her through the crowd with a hand at her lower back—not intimate, but unmistakably proprietary. Every man watching understood the message.
Every woman did too.
"Lucian."
The voice came from my left.
Smooth. Familiar. Annoying.
I didn't turn immediately. I already knew who it was.
Serena Vale.
A mistake from two years ago—beautiful, ambitious, convinced she had left a mark. She wore silver tonight, cut low, confidence sharpened with desperation. The kind of woman who mistook access for attachment.
I turned slowly.
"Serena," I said coolly.
Her gaze flicked to Amara—head to toe—lingering just a second too long. Calculation flashed behind her smile.
"So she's real," Serena said lightly. "I thought the engagement rumors were strategic theater."
Amara stiffened.
I felt it instantly.
"She's standing right here," I replied, voice calm but edged. "Mind your tone."
Serena laughed softly. "Relax. I'm impressed, actually. You've never brought anyone to an event like this."
"That should tell you everything you need to know."
Her smile faltered—just barely.
She stepped closer, eyes never leaving mine. "You don't deny you and I—"
"I deny relevance," I cut in.
The air shifted.
Serena's jaw tightened. "After everything between us?"
"There was nothing between us," I said coldly. "There was convenience. And it expired."
Amara inhaled sharply beside me.
I turned to her then—not Serena.
Not the crowd.
Only her.
"Are you alright?" I asked quietly.
She nodded, though her eyes were stormy.
Serena scoffed. "Careful, Lucian. You're not the marrying type. You'll destroy her."
That did it.
I angled my body fully toward Amara, placing myself between her and Serena without breaking eye contact.
"I will destroy anyone who disrespects her," I said evenly. "Including ghosts who don't know when they've been buried."
Silence slammed down around us.
Serena's face drained of color.
I leaned in slightly, voice low enough for only her to hear. "You never had a chance. Don't embarrass yourself by pretending otherwise."
She stepped back.
The damage was done.
I turned away without another word, guiding Amara toward the terrace. The moment the doors closed behind us, the noise faded.
She pulled her hand from mine—but didn't move away.
"That was…" she began.
"Unacceptable," I finished. "And handled."
She looked up at me then, eyes searching. "You didn't have to—"
"Yes," I said firmly. "I did."
She frowned. "Why?"
Because the idea of anyone touching what was now mine ignited something vicious in me.
But I didn't say that.
Instead, I said, "Because the world tests boundaries. And tonight, I drew one."
Her lips parted, then closed again.
Something shifted between us—dangerous, undeniable.
From across the room, eyes still watched us.
Let them.
They'd just learned something important.
Amara Blackwood—whether she wanted the name yet or not—was not available for speculation.
And anyone who thought otherwise…
Would learn.