The visitation room at the detention center was cold, smelling of stale coffee and industrial cleaner. It was a stark contrast to the penthouse luxury Serena Blaire had spent her life chasing.
Lucian sat behind the thick plexiglass, his suit immaculate, his expression unreadable. On the other side, Serena sat in a shapeless orange jumpsuit. Her hair was unwashed, her makeup gone, revealing a woman who looked much older and far more desperate than the "Green Tea b***h" who had ruled Thorne Industries.
"Lucian," she breathed, leaning toward the glass. "You came. I knew you would. You can’t let them keep me here. My brother... Victor is crazy. He forced me to help him! I had nothing to do with the k********g!"
Lucian didn't blink. He placed a sleek, black folder on the metal table.
"Victo
