Chapter 6 - The Betrayal Inside His Office
Isolda called Lucian immediately.
He answered on the first ring.
“What happened?”
“Where is Marcus?”
Lucian frowned.
“In the office with me.”
Isolda's blood went cold.
“Get away from him.”
Lucian slowly looked through the glass wall of his private conference room.
Marcus stood outside, speaking with an analyst.
“Why?”
“Celeste says he altered the hotel reservation.”
Lucian said nothing.
“Lucian?”
“I'm here.”
“Don't confront him.”
Marcus looked toward the conference room.
Their eyes met.
Lucian forced himself not to react.
“I'll call you back.”
“Lucian—”
“I promise.”
He ended the call.
Then walked out casually.
“Marcus.”
“Yes?”
“Come with me.”
Marcus followed him into Lucian's office.
Lucian closed the door.
He did not accuse him.
Instead, he poured two glasses of water.
“Long week.”
Marcus watched him.
“Yes.”
“You've been with me nine years.”
“Almost ten.”
Lucian handed him a glass.
“You were there when I proposed to Isolda.”
“I arranged the security perimeter.”
“You were at our wedding.”
“Yes.”
“You knew when Amara was due.”
Marcus's face changed almost imperceptibly.
Lucian saw it.
“Why did you alter the reservation?”
Silence.
Marcus set the water down.
“Celeste told you.”
“She told Isolda.”
Marcus nodded slowly.
Lucian's voice remained controlled.
“Why?”
“I needed you to leave your father.”
Lucian stared.
“By destroying my marriage?”
“By exposing him.”
“You sent the photograph?”
“Yes.”
“The reservation?”
“Yes.”
“Why involve Isolda?”
“Because she was the only person who could make you break from Alaric.”
Lucian's hands curled.
“You used my wife.”
“Yes.”
“You hurt her.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Marcus stepped closer.
“Because your father killed mine.”
Lucian went still.
Again.
Another son standing in front of him carrying damage created by Alaric Draven.
Marcus continued.
“My father was Celeste's father's business partner.”
Lucian frowned.
“He survived the collapse.”
“Barely.”
“What does that have to do with you?”
“He spent twenty years trying to prove Alaric engineered it.”
“And?”
“He died before he could.”
Marcus looked exhausted.
“I joined your security detail because I thought you were exactly like him.”
Lucian's voice became quiet.
“And then?”
“You weren't.”
Marcus gave a bitter laugh.
“That made it worse.”
“Why?”
“Because I started liking you.”
Lucian said nothing.
“You treated employees like people. You married someone your father hated. You questioned deals he pushed.”
Marcus looked toward the window.
“But every time you got close to breaking free, he pulled you back.”
“So you targeted Isolda.”
“I thought one undeniable act would force the break.”
“The airport.”
“Yes.”
Lucian's face hardened.
“You knew she was in labor?”
Marcus looked at him.
“No.”
Lucian searched his expression.
“I swear.”
“Then how did the photograph get taken?”
“I had someone in the lounge.”
“And the reservation?”
“Altered earlier that morning.”
Marcus's voice broke.
“I wanted Isolda to believe Alaric was arranging an affair.”
“You wanted her to mistrust me.”
“Yes.”
“She almost left me.”
Marcus's eyes dropped.
“That wasn't supposed to happen.”
Lucian laughed in disbelief.
“You don't get to decide what betrayal does to someone.”
“I know.”
“No. You know now.”
The words echoed something Isolda had told Lucian.
For the first time, he fully understood them.
Marcus reached into his jacket.
Lucian tensed.
But Marcus removed a flash drive.
“This contains everything.”
“What?”
“Financial records. Shell companies. Payments. Private investigators. The old merger.”
“Why give it to me?”
“Because I was wrong.”
Lucian stared at him.
Marcus continued.
“I spent years telling myself the Dravens needed to pay.”
“They do.”
“No.”
Marcus shook his head.
“Alaric needs to answer for what he did. Amara doesn't. Isolda doesn't. You don't.”
Lucian took the flash drive.
“I should have given you this years ago.”
“Why didn't you?”
“Because revenge felt more satisfying than truth.”
Lucian looked at the man who had protected his life for nearly a decade.
“You're fired.”
Marcus nodded.
“I know.”
“And my attorneys will determine whether what you did was criminal.”
“I understand.”
Lucian opened the door.
Marcus walked toward it.
Then stopped.
“For what it's worth, I never thought you'd silence her call.”
Lucian's jaw tightened.
Marcus looked back.
“That part wasn't anyone's plan.”
“No.”
Lucian's voice was quiet.
“That part was mine.”
Marcus left.
The evidence on the flash drive transformed the investigation.
Alaric had used shell companies for years to pressure competitors, gather private information, and bury claims.
Some actions were unethical.
Others potentially illegal.
The board removed him permanently.
Federal investigators became involved.
Draven Holdings' stock fell eighteen percent in two days.
News outlets surrounded the tower.
Lucian could have fought to preserve the family image.
Instead, he issued a public statement.
No excuses.
No attacks.
Full cooperation.
Then he resigned as CEO temporarily.
The board protested.
He insisted.
For the first time since college, Lucian woke the next morning without a corporate schedule.
He went to a parenting class.
Alone.
The instructor looked at him in surprise.
“Mr. Draven?”
“Lucian is fine.”
“You're here for newborn care?”
“Yes.”
“Where's Mom?”
“She needs space from me.”
The instructor wisely asked no more.
He learned how to change diapers faster.
How to recognize signs of infant reflux.
How to swaddle.
How to sanitize bottles.
How to support a postpartum mother without turning every act into a request for gratitude.
He wrote everything down.
When Isolda learned about the class from Marianne, she did not know whether to laugh or cry.
“He's never taken notes in his life,” she said.
Marianne smiled.
“Maybe he finally found a subject he doesn't think he understands.”
Over the following weeks, Lucian visited the cottage twice a week.
Only when invited.
Sometimes he held Amara while Isolda slept.
Sometimes he brought groceries.
Once he repaired a broken cabinet hinge so badly Elias had to redo it.
No expensive gifts.
No grand gestures.
No demands.
One afternoon, Isolda woke from a nap and found Lucian asleep in the armchair.
Amara slept on his chest.
His hand protected the back of her head even in sleep.
Isolda stood in the doorway for several minutes.
There had been a time when this image was all she wanted.
Her husband.
Their child.
Peace.
She had imagined it before the birth.
Now it existed after everything had broken.
That made it both beautiful and painful.
Lucian woke.
“Sorry.”
“For what?”
“I didn't mean to fall asleep.”
Isolda smiled faintly.
“You look terrified.”
“I am.”
“Of sleeping?”
“Of moving.”
Amara's cheek was pressed against his shirt.
“If she wakes up, she might cry.”
“Babies do that.”
“I know, but I like when she doesn't.”
Isolda laughed.
Lucian stared at her.
“What?”
“I haven't heard you laugh around me since…”
He stopped.
“The airport,” she finished.
“Yes.”
The silence returned.
But it was no longer hostile.
Just honest.
Isolda sat down.
“Lucian.”
“Yes?”
“I don't want to go back to our old marriage.”
He swallowed.
“All right.”
“I don't mean the apartment.”
“I know.”
“I mean us.”
His expression tightened, but he nodded.
She continued.
“If there is any possibility for us, it can't be you convincing me that everything can return to normal.”
“I don't want normal.”
“What do you want?”
He looked at their daughter.
Then at her.
“A chance to build something I haven't already ruined.”
Isolda's eyes filled.
“That sounds good.”
“But?”
“But I don't trust you yet.”
“I know.”
“And some days I still hate you.”
“I know.”
“And when I remember the delivery room, I don't know if I'll ever stop being angry.”
“You don't have to.”
She frowned.
“What?”
“I don't need you to stop being angry so I can feel better.”
That answer broke another small piece of the wall.
Isolda looked down.
“I started therapy.”
Lucian blinked.
“So did I.”
She laughed softly.
“Of course you did.”
“Mine says I confuse obedience with responsibility.”
“Your therapist works fast.”
“She also says humor is deflection.”
Isolda smiled.
Lucian smiled back.
Then Amara woke and began crying.
Both reached for her.
Their hands touched.
Neither pulled away immediately.
It lasted only a second.
But it was the first voluntary contact between them since before her labor.
Three weeks later, Isolda returned to the city.
Not to Lucian's penthouse.
She rented a townhouse under her own name.
Lucian helped carry boxes.
Elias deliberately gave him the heaviest ones.
Marianne pretended not to notice.
Their relationship remained undefined.
Lucian visited Amara regularly.
He and Isolda ate dinner occasionally.
Sometimes they talked about parenting.
Sometimes about childhood.
Sometimes about nothing important.
Trust returned slowly.
Then, one evening, Lucian received a call from the prosecutor handling Alaric's case.
“We found something in the financial records.”
Lucian looked at Isolda.
“What?”
“A payment made three days before your daughter's birth.”
“To whom?”
“A private medical consultant.”
Lucian's stomach tightened.
“Why?”
“We don't know.”
“Was it connected to Project Heir?”
“Possibly.”
The prosecutor paused.
“But there's another problem.”
“What?”
“The consultant disappeared yesterday.”
Lucian stood.
Isolda saw his face.
“What happened?”
He put the phone on speaker.
The prosecutor continued.
“Before disappearing, he mailed one envelope.”
“To whom?”
A pause.
“To your wife.”
At that exact moment, the townhouse doorbell rang.
Isolda looked toward the hallway.
A courier stood outside holding a white envelope.
May you like
Her name was written across the front.
Inside, something heavy shifted when he moved it.
