The fluorescent lights of the police station buzzed overhead, casting a sickly pallor on the scene below. The kiss still tingled on Star's lips—unwanted, confusing, and so utterly Adrian—but she had no space to process it. Not with the cuffs the officer had been reaching for. Not with Adrian's apology still hanging in the air, his hand awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.
"I'm so sorry," he murmured. "I just got caught in the moment."
Star managed a weak, polite smile—the kind you give a stranger who has accidentally stepped on your foot. Then she stepped past him, her legs still unsteady from two weeks of numbness and hell, and walked straight into Lucian.
His arms came around her before she even made contact. Like he'd been waiting. Like he'd been holding that space open for her since the day she vanished.
She hit his chest with her fists. Small, furious punches that carried all the terror of the past fourteen days.
"I hoped you'd save me!" Her voice cracked, splintering down the middle. "You were supposed to—you always do—and you didn't!"
Lucian didn't move. Didn't block her blows. He just stood there, jaw tight, eyes dark with something that looked like shame. His hands stayed at his sides—until they didn't. One palm came up to cradle the back of her head, pressing her face into his shoulder, muffling her next punch against the worn leather of his jacket.
"I'm just glad you're okay," he said. The words were barely a whisper, rough at the edges. A private confession meant only for her.
Adrian watched from behind her, his apology still drying on his lips. The sight of her fists against this stranger's chest—the familiarity of it—sent something hot and corrosive through his veins. He'd been sick with worry for two weeks. He'd driven the streets until his eyes burned. And now she was wrapped around some man she clearly had history with, punching him like he'd broken a sacred promise.
Who the hell is this guy?
"Star," Adrian said.
She broke the hug and turned to look at him. The moment stretched, awkward and raw.
"Oh. Adrian, meet my best friend, Lucian. Lucian, this is Adrian," she said, gesturing weakly between them.
The two men stared at each other for a long, charged moment. The tension rose—a silent contest of wills, of chests, of who belonged more in her orbit. Finally, they exchanged a single, curt nod. Star had already registered that her two favorite people would not get along, especially after what Lucian had just witnessed.
The entire department watched the trio, the air thick with unspoken calculations.
"Well, that was all sweet and warm," Detective Vix interrupted, stepping forward. "But this lady right here is under arrest."
Adrian and Lucian both cocked an eyebrow and spoke in unison. "On what charge?"
"She character-defamed one Frieda Grimm," the officer who had been helping Star earlier said. "Filed a false report."
"Star?" Lucian's voice was low, concerned.
"I was kidnapped, Lucian," Star began.
While she spoke, Adrian shot daggers at Lucian, who noticed but didn't flinch. Star had spoken of Lucian often, and Adrian could tell their friendship was thick as concrete. He'd never put a face to the name before, but now he had. And he knew: if he was going to win Star's heart, he was in for competition.
"Do you know who took you?" Lucian asked.
"Yes. Two men—one named Ramon and his sister, Frieda." Tears glistened in her eyes, but she didn't look away. "Frieda wanted to kill me. Ramon injected me with something I don't know what. And he sicced men on me. A lot of men. To gang-rape me." Her voice dropped. "The police don't believe me. Apparently, my mother told them not to."
Adrian straightened his shoulders, the posture of a man used to commanding boardrooms. "Star," he said, his voice measured but edged with steel. "We need to get you out of here. I have lawyers on retainer. We can—"
"She's not going anywhere."
The voice came from behind the front desk. Officer Dempsey, Vix's partner, now stood with his arms crossed. His eyes flicked between Adrian and Lucian with dawning recognition—and something that looked like fear.
"It's okay if you don't believe me," Star said, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "Frieda probably paid you all off. But I need to file a police report against myself. Because after this, I'm taking the law into my own hands."
"Miss Set," Dempsey said, clearing his throat, "you stole a vehicle. You made false accusations against a respected citizen. You're currently under investigation for—"
"She stole my car."
All eyes turned to Lucian. He hadn't raised his voice . He hadn't even moved from where he stood with Star still pressed against him. But something in the room shifted. The temperature seemed to drop.
"The Ferrari outside," Lucian continued, his voice a low, unhurried drawl. "It's registered to one of my… holdings. I loaned it to her. So unless you're planning to charge her with borrowing something that belongs to me…" He let the sentence hang, his blue eyes fixed on Dempsey with the patience of a predator.
Dempsey swallowed. Audibly.
Star frowned. Is Lucian really going to convince the police he owns a Ferrari F76? He's just a mechanic.
Adrian saw the shift in the officers' reactions whenever Lucian spoke. His jaw tightened. Lucian Throne. The ghost who ran the underworld with the same ruthless efficiency that Adrian ran his empire. The man who could make problems disappear—or make them appear in ways that kept people awake at night.
That was who Star had been punching. That was who she'd hugged like a lifeline.
Adrian's hands curled into fists. He was a Forbes-list billionaire. He'd stared down hostile boards, hostile governments, hostile everything. But this was different. This was a man who operated in shadows Adrian couldn't buy his way into. And that man had just put his hands on Star with a possessiveness that made Adrian's blood boil.
"I don't care whose car it is," Adrian cut in, stepping forward so he stood level with Lucian. Their eyes met—billionaire and crime lord, two apex predators who'd never had reason to circle each other until now.
"What I care about is that Star just walked in here after being held against her will for two weeks. And instead of helping her, you were about to arrest her." He turned his glare on Vix. "That changes now."
Vix's face had gone pale. He looked between the two men—one who could buy the entire city and one who could burn it down—and seemed to realize he was standing in a very small, very dangerous room.
"Look, Mr. Stark," Dempsey started, his voice climbing an octave, "we had no way to verify her claim. Frieda Grimm is a prominent—"
"I don't give a damn who Frieda Grimm is." Adrian's voice was ice. "My lawyers will be here in ten minutes. Until then, no one lays a hand on her."
"Your lawyers," Lucian said quietly, still focused on Vix and Dempsey. His tone was almost amused. Almost. "That's cute."
Adrian's head snapped toward him. "Excuse me?"
Lucian finally lifted his gaze. When his eyes met Adrian's, there was nothing amused in them. They were the color of the still ocean before a storm—cold, endless, and empty.
"You think paperwork is going to fix this," Lucian said. Not a question. A statement. "You think a legal team and a press release will make the police listen to her." He let the words settle, then gave a slow shake of his head. "That's not how the world works, Adrian."
First-name basis, are we? Adrian wondered, his knuckles turning white.
"And I suppose you know how it works?" Adrian stepped closer, closing the distance between them. He was aware of the officers watching, of Star still pressed against Lucian's chest, of the charged silence that had fallen over the entire station. "Let me guess—you threaten a few people, break some kneecaps, and suddenly everyone falls in line?"
Lucian's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Something like that."
The two men stood three feet apart, neither willing to look away first. Adrian felt the weight of the moment—not just the rivalry, but the realization that this man had known Star longer, had held her closer, had been the one she'd expected to save her. And he, Adrian Stark, the man who had everything, had just been the second choice.
The jealousy was a physical thing, a fist around his ribs.
"Enough."
Star's voice cut through the tension like a blade. She pulled back from Lucian, her face tear-streaked but her jaw set. She looked at Adrian. Then at Lucian. Then at the cluster of officers who seemed to have forgotten they were supposed to be in charge.
"I can't do this." She raised her hands in surrender. "I know I don't look like I've been held against my will for two weeks, or raped; even the tests won't prove anything, it's been over 72 hours. But I never in my life thought the police could be so stupid and narrow-minded."
Detective Vix frowned. "Young lady, you may have two powerful men on your side, but the law is still the law."
"Really?" Star narrowed her eyes. "Can I have the recording?"
"What recording?" Dempsey asked, confused.
"The recording of my mother filing a report. Telling you not to listen to me."
Vix shifted uncomfortably.
"Here," Officer Dempsey said, and played it.
The recording was real. Genuine. Louise's voice filled the station.
"Star came home, a bit drunk, I would say. She brought divorce papers for me to sign. She wanted to separate me from my husband. I know we fight, we have our issues, but we always keep them from her. I don't know what came over her that she suddenly felt it was right to intervene in my marriage."
"Is your husband Star's birth father?" the interviewer asked.
"Yes. He is. He's a good father and a good husband to both of us." A pause. "I reprimanded her, and she rudely shoved me. Then she told me she'd met a man far away from the city. That she was going to stay there and never return."
Star couldn't believe her ears. Her own mother. She remembered how Louise had rejected the divorce papers, how she'd refused to be freed from the man who beat her, who stripped her of self-respect. And now she was slandering her own daughter for an abuser who didn't even love her.
Why? Why?
"Star has this hate over my friend Frieda Grimm," Louise continued. "She always tries to come up with excuses to get her in trouble…"
Star left the station. She couldn't breathe anymore. She leaned against the Ferrari she'd stolen to escape, but even in the open parking lot, the air felt suffocating. Her mother was weak. Her father was evil. And somehow, she had been born to both of them.
Lucian and Adrian watched her go, each with a different kind of concern tightening their chests.
A moment later, a man in a gray suit entered the station, a briefcase in one hand, his long hair tied in a ponytail.
"This is Mr. Brian Chase," Adrian announced. "He's Star's new lawyer. Mr. Chase, get to work."
Lucian shook his head and stared at Adrian in disbelief. "Honestly, I don't know what Star sees in you."
Adrian frowned.
He walked away, outside to Star.
The streetlights were beginning to glow. Dusk settled over Crestfall City like a held breath.
"Am I going to be arrested?" Star asked as Lucian approached. "My own mother, Lucian. Can you believe it?"
"How are you doing?" He ignored the question. "Are you all right?"
He hated seeing her like this. Troubled. Tears glistening in her eyes. He hated it.
"How can I be fine when my mother thinks I'm a criminal?" Star's voice cracked. "All I did—all I did was try to free her from that abusive man, Luc—"
She broke into sobs. Lucian pulled her close.
"It's okay," he murmured, pressing her gently against his chest. "It will be fine."He breathed in the scent of her hair, and even he knew it was a reckless thing to notice in a moment like this, when everything around them was falling apart—but Star's scent was addictive, dangerously so. Clean, soft, completely her. The kind of scent a man could lose his mind over. He could stand there all day, breathing her in, and never get enough.
"Don't worry, Star." Adrian's voice came from behind, interrupting the moment. "Mr. Chase will represent you. You're never going to be arrested."
If Lucian wasn't already furious, that would have done it.
Star sniffed and wiped her tears with the back of her hand. She looked at Adrian with red-rimmed eyes. "I don't need a lawyer. But thank you."
She walked toward Lucian's car—a Bentley parked at the curb.
"Star, you're in trouble," Adrian pressed, following her. "Mr. Chase is the best lawyer in the city. He can help you."
Lucian followed too, looking completely nonchalant, as if none of this concerned him. But deep down, he prayed she wouldn't open the Bentley door. Because inside, an officer sat tied up, wrists and ankles bound, a cloth stuffed in his mouth to keep him quiet.
Lyrl was in the car too, slouched in the seat with AirPods in his ears, eyes closed, lost in his music, completely unaware of what was unfolding just outside the door.
Star chuckled humorlessly. "Adrian, I love you, but don't push your luck. Okay? Today is not my day."
Her hand touched the door handle.
Lucian's heartbeat slowed and sharpened at the same time, that dangerous calm settling into his chest — the kind of calm that came right before everything went wrong. He didn't move. Didn't speak. Didn't breathe.
Inside the car, Lyrl nodded slightly to the music in his ears, eyes still closed, completely relaxed.
Outside the car, Star's fingers tightened around the handle.
"I asked the officers to run the Ferrari's registration," Adrian said quickly. "And I promise you—I will free you from all of this. You can go back to your old life."
"That's just it, Adrian. I never want to go back to my old life." Star's hand itched to punch something. Someone. "Adrian, go home. You've done enough." Adrian swallowed hard and shot Lucian a stare as if Lucian has anything to do with Star's attitude.
She opened the Bentley door.
Lucian's heart ripped in his chest.
But before she could turn to get in inside, Officer Dempsey came rushing out, confusion etched on his face.
"The Ferrari," Dempsey said, breathless. "It belongs to Star Set."
Star froze. She turned slowly. "What? You can't be serious."
She walked to Dempsey and looked at his pad. The record was clear: the Ferrari F76 was registered to Star Set.
***
The streets of Cretfall City shimmered under the nightlights as Star drove the Ferrari home.
"Can you believe it?" she said, half-laughing. "Someone out there has a lot of money and bought me a car? And here I've been struggling."
"Yes," Lucian said quietly. "Maybe someone saw your suffering and just wanted to surprise you. Free you from it."
"Yeah, well." She made a U-turn into their street. "I'm glad."
A pause.
"Frieda will be packing tonight," Star said, her voice hardening. "How dare she?"
Lucian had already caught her up: her father's mistress was living in their house. Probably mistreating Louise too.
Inside, Frieda peered through the kitchen window and saw the Ferrari slow to park.
"Honey, the billionaire boy is back," she said to Tomas, who was helping her chop vegetables. "Do you think we should stall? Extort some money from him? He clearly cares for Star."
Ever since Frieda had entered the house, Tomas had become the husband Louise never had. Helping with chores. Cooking. Dropping kisses here and there. Doing everything Louise had begged him to do for years—but all she'd ever received was beatings, insults, and disrespect.
Louise pursed her lips from the living room, watching their easy intimacy. She looked fine now, but that was nothing compared to the stress and depression of the past two weeks. Her daughter was missing. Probably dead. And she had never been a good mother. Every day, she sat in the chair facing the front door, hoping Star would walk through it. Back into her arms. And she would never let her out of her sight again.
The door opened.
Star walked through.
Louise froze. She didn't move. For two weeks, she'd seen Star everywhere—hallucinations, her mind playing cruel tricks. So this was just another one.
"Mom?" Star strode toward her.
Louise stood. Her legs nearly gave way, but Star caught her. And they hugged for an eternity.
Tomas and Frieda froze.
Especially Frieda. Ramon had told her Star was dead. But this was no ghost. Her heart raced when Lucian entered the living room. She knew who Lucian Throne was. Even Ramon was afraid of him.
Did Star talk? Did she tell him?
Her eyes drifted to Star's bandaged right hand as it held her mother tight.
Frieda's heart danced in her ribcage, waiting for the inevitable.