Selene
The northern warehouse stood like something the city had forgotten to demolish.
The structure was massive, but not impressive.
Corrugated iron walls, worn down by years of salt air from the docks, carried a dull, uneven sheen under weak lighting. It was almost a silver-toned, but a rotten one at that.
The roof stretched high overhead, rusted and creaky but intact. supported by thick steel beams
Inside, the space felt too open.
Too exposed.
In this warehouse
I rarely let my men keep the shipments.
This is too obvious for places people would search first for anything missing.
The raids always start with places like this.
It's not like the police ever warned me less.
But Bajpai, the Indian officer, was a snoopdog, always sneaking and slipping around my territory only for Victor to shove dollars down his throat. Bajpai once found this place, a bigger, bellied man with a mustache too bushy for a man like him, limp, lousy forearms barely holding down the hand, pointing the gun at my forehead.
The irony gets me every time.
Still, Bajpai has saved my ass quite a lot until I could shove down only Coke and not younger women.
Bajpai is a pervert
Too much casual in his perverse that I might someday choke him down on his own penis
Thinking this much heinous for a woman like me would be surprising for many.
But I surprise people pretty often.
Wooden pallets lay scattered, edges splintered, nails slightly raised like they were waiting for someone careless enough to step wrong. I sometimes want to be that careless.
But anyway Lucien
Anticipation of seeing this man never surprises me nowadays. Imagine you grab your heart along with flesh and blood and gore and squeeze it until it beats back, like an opposite signal in response. That was how Anticipation worked until I saw him. But there's a certain type of agitation that is a burden in my head, which was also a little too heavy to deal with. I'm getting a little burnt out nowadays.
Constantly thinking and analysing does that to you.
The air carried a mixture of smells
damp wood,
old rope,
And something faintly metallic
Gun oil, maybe.
A single bulb hung from the ceiling, swinging just slightly. Water dripped-
I could tell when his footsteps arrived, and I could tell the right millisecond my heart stopped. Name the devil
Lucien Voss
My ex-husband
The father of my son
Gideon
White shirt, fitted perfectly.
Top two buttons undone—just enough to break formality
No tie
Classic of his
Slim-cut, dark, tailored trousers
High-heeled leather boots
As if he needs an extra inch of those 6'2 inches of his
His eyes
Cheetah eyes, jet black, a mole under his right eye waterline, all the places he has moles, the sunshade under his eyes, the poignant one was right on his lower one
Lucien Voss
Was a sinfully beautiful man
But a beast, muscles taut in the shoulder, which had a little bulk, lean body, but stature so sharp and ripped, biceps toned and veiny, blood must have rushed into my ears because I found him raising his eyebrows.
His customised Rolex with a midnight blue dial, still on his left wrist, and no ring on any fingers.
I nodded in greeting.
Lucien steps forward—slow, deliberate, like a storm moving in under the cover of night.*
He doesn't speak at first. Just looks at me—really looks—measuring every breath, every flicker behind my glasses.
Then, softly:
"...You still hold a room like it's yours by divine right."
*A beat.*
"You called me to your kingdom,"
*his voice drops,*
"Now you're silent?
He tilts his head slightly—almost intrigued.
"You used to strike fast. Now you hesitate."
*Cold. Quiet.*
"Or maybe… You don't want to admit what this really is."
He takes one step closer.
"This isn't a negotiation."
His gaze pins me as I take a measured breath.
"It's a reckoning."
"You might be wishing that
But no
Sit "
Marco and Victor were behind him, but he came alone, though, no guards in sight, no gun in sight as well. I narrowed my eyes a bit to find any weapon on his boots.
Or his sleeves
I couldn't find any
Surprising
*A slow, dangerous silence stretches—then Lucien lets out a low, quiet laugh. He was aware.
He leans forward, voice dropping to that velvet hush he only uses when the game turns serious.
"On your den?"
"You always did love playing queen on a throne built by my family's blood and bullets."
He stands, smooth and deliberate — the kind of movement that signals intent.
"But let's not pretend this is about territory."
Lucien holds my gaze for a beat—then sits in the chair. Smooth, controlled—every move calculated.
His eyes don't leave mine. And it couldn't, at least until I knew.
His demeanor doesn't soften.
If anything, the air in the room gets heavier—like two predators waiting to strike.
He leans back.
Victor tensed
He did every time
Lucien can kill with words enough.
He's a damn great manipulator
"Tell me which parts you want in the city."
I asked
Giving him an opening, because the southern parts were ambushed, and I don't know who did it. It wasn't certainly Lucien.
Lucien exhales—almost a laugh, but not quite. He leans forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees.
"Parts?"
His voice is low, deliberate.
"You think I want *parts* of your city? Like, this is some real estate deal over tea?"
His eyes narrow—not in anger. In calculation. I could understand him, blind.
"I don't want zones."
He says it slowly.
"I want control where it matters—the docks you just opened… the routes to Jeju that run through my men's territory… and every whisper between you and your new allies."
Then he tilts his head.
"But if we're trading," his voice drops, "then tell me one thing; why are you really offering terms? Why not just let blood flow like last time?"
"Do you actually need me..."
Or do you miss watching me play god with your life?"
I sighed
"Allies? That's what you came up with now?"
"I don't need, nor do I miss you
Lucien," I said calmly.
"'Im nothing to you
You are of no use to me as well
We are ex-husband and wife
And this is not a metaphor."
I did open the docks.
To trade more shipments and not any other president smuggle women as your own mother did."
A sharp silence. Lucien leans back in his chair—not in retreat. But in a careful study. Lucien was never scared of my men. He can chew them and eat them alone; that's how much of a beast he is in real life.
"You opened the docks to trade."
It's a statement, not a question. He stares at me for another quiet moment. I know I was risking it, risking every morality, every sanity I ever got to control in, every reasonable amount of times I rescued myself from going to utter destruction, a pain so large I couldn't breathe for years. But I had to do the trade to know why there was an ambush and talking to him, doesn't feel like he even knows it, even if he does, he thinks its a local gang but its not, it might be his own mother, Lucien has some security system there but the ambush came from another local smaller gang who are also infiltrated in Lucien's team. Or Lucien's team didn't inform him about the ambush that came internally, and not outside of it. Lucien took the opportunity to meet me in between
"Is that all? For more *shipments*?"
*A subtle edge to his voice. Not quite sarcasm, not quite disbelief.*
"And let me guess: you expect me to just *trust* that?"
"No,
But I want you to hand me over the security of the docks.
Since it was always in my zone, but your men corrupted it after securing it by force.
I'm asking for them to let us through."
I said, looking at him straight, and I realised my heart was gutted wide open again.
Lucien's eyes narrow slightly, gauging the sincerity in your request. A long beat of silence, then he finally speaks.
"You want my men to clear the docks, just like that?"
He leans back, drumming his fingers once against the table.
"And you'll give what in return?
"Whatever you want, really
We can do shared business
On the docks as well
Since your shipments are of bad quality.
The liquor you produce is 15 percent water,
That's a loss for people." I replied
For the first time since walking in, Lucien almost smiles at that.
"You're insulting my product... and offering to expand my business in the same breath. That's bold."
*Another beat, his fingers drumming more slowly now—a thoughtful gesture.*
"And just what kind of shared business are you suggesting?
"You let my ships through
And I let you buy some of my productions."
"You don't even use the southern docks.
You just kept it blocked for me.
I'm asking you to let me through in return for my own branded goods production.
The original selling price.
Without the profit.
You can keep the profit after you sell it on your own." I added.
Lucien isn't an idiot to not notice my desperation, and I felt pathetic realising that as well.
"Deal?"
Lucien mulls over the offer. It's reasonable. It's lucrative. It's exactly what he'd expect from me. But there's still that hint of caution in his eyes.*
"No tricks, Selene?"
*He doesn't look away from me—searching my face, reading the intentions there.*
"No hidden terms? Just shared business at the docks in exchange for access to your productions?"
"Why would there be hidden terms
Am I going through that bad of a phase to ask for sex now from you
Huh?" I Said
Lucien's poker face falters. It's subtle—just a slight twitch at the corner of his lips, the faintest flicker in his eyes. But it's *there*—and for a moment, he looks almost amused.*
*And that... is unexpected.*
"You've been full of surprises today," *he finally murmurs.* "First, you're opening up my old docks without warning, now this."
He shakes his head slightly.
"You really do keep things interesting, even after all this time."
"Sure
Easy for people to say who betrays right."
The bitter words had to make an embarrassing appearance.
A bitter laugh escapes Lucien's lips. It's sharp. Cold. The sound of old wounds reopening.
"You really want to go there?"
*The atmosphere in the room crackles with tension. Lucien stares at me directly now—no masks, no hesitation.*
"You want to play the innocent, ask me to list your sins? As if you don't know exactly what I'd say.
"Oh, really now!
What did I betray you with
Let's hear," I asked with such vengeance. I hated it.
Lucien's eyes flash at that. The amusement fades almost instantly, replaced by something colder—harsher.*
"Betrayal," he says flatly. "That's what you do best, isn't it?"
The air feels thicker all of a sudden, like static in a storm.
"Are you really that childish to not answer directly and roam around the main point?
We can do these all day."
I said, almost bored and so fucked up, burnt in the head.
*Lucien's nostrils flare slightly, his calm façade starting to crack. You've hit a nerve.*
"Don't talk to me about being direct," he snaps. He rarely snapped at me.
"You're the one offering business deals and acting like the past never happened."
He leans forward, voice dropping to that dangerous near-whisper.
"But fine. You want me to say it?"
He holds my gaze, every word like a dagger—cold and precise.
"You *betrayed* our marriage."
Lucien stands suddenly—smooth, deliberate. His shadow stretches long across the table, sharp as a blade.
He walks around slowly—not threateningly. Like a man who knows he holds the truth. Suddenly, I felt the fury, the anger, the ache, all of it in a millisecond.
And when he speaks again, his voice is low. Cold.
"You were never *just* Selene Marcellus."
He stops at the edge of the room, turning back to face me.
"You were your father's daughter to the end. And when he called—when he demanded loyalty above love—you answered."
"The night before I found out about Aiden's illness… You handed classified syndicate movements to your brother."
His jaw tightens and slightly shakes.
"Movement logs that led to six of my men being ambushed in Incheon."
He takes one slow step forward.
"And you know what broke me most?"
"Not the blood."
"Not even losing them."
His voice drops lower—almost broken beneath steel.
"It was finding your pen... still on my desk... after you left."
"Still warm from where you wrote lies right under my name."
"So don't ask me when you betrayed us."
"You did it with silence."
"With duty."
With honor for everyone but me."
A pause.
Long.
Heavy.
"Call it what it is, Selene."
"You chose your bloodline."
Right then, I realised Victor and Marco both had their guns pointed at his head, but Lucien didn't fucking move an inch. This was the man I loved, the monster~
"And walked away from ours."