What did ETHAN Steal
1195 Words
''And now they think you have what he stole.”
The words hit harder than the gunshot.
Ivy stared at Lucien.
Rain crashed against the penthouse windows behind him while security quietly cleaned blood off the marble floor like murder was just another midnight inconvenience.
Her throat tightened.
“What did Ethan steal?”
Lucien didn’t answer immediately.
That silence again.
Calculated.
Heavy.
Like every word he chose carried consequences.
“I asked you a question.”
“You ask many questions,” he said calmly. “That’s usually what gets people killed in this city.”
Anger flared through her fear. “Stop talking to me like I’m a child.”
His eyes moved over her face slowly.
Carefully.
Dangerously.
“You broke into the most secure private tower in Manhattan during a storm,” he murmured. “Trust me. I’m not confusing you with a child.”
The way he said it made heat crawl up her spine.
God.
This man weaponized his voice.
Lucien walked toward the windows overlooking Manhattan.
The skyline burned gold and silver beneath the rain. Endless buildings. Endless secrets.
From up here, the city looked fake.
Like a beautiful lie.
He slipped one hand into his pocket. “Three months ago your brother accessed something that didn’t belong to him.”
“What thing?”
“A list.”
Ivy frowned. “A list of what?”
Lucien looked back at her.
People.
That single word changed the air in the room.
“Politicians,” he continued. “Judges. CEOs. Men who pay enormous amounts of money to keep their private appetites invisible.”
A cold feeling crept into her stomach.
“What kind of appetites?”
Lucien’s expression darkened slightly.
“The kind that built empires quietly.”
The answer felt worse than specifics.
Ivy folded her arms tightly. “And Ethan stole this list?”
“He copied it.”
“Why?”
Lucien gave a humorless smile.
“Because your brother believed exposing monsters would somehow destroy them.”
Lightning flashed across the glass.
For a brief second, Lucien’s reflection looked terrifying.
Sharp suit.
Emotionless eyes.
A man carved from darkness and money.
Ivy studied him carefully.
“You’re on the list too, aren’t you?”
Silence.
Then—
“Yes.”
Her pulse kicked harder.
“And people are trying to kill me because they think I have it?”
“They know Ethan contacted you before he disappeared.”
“He was my brother.”
“To men like them,” Lucien said softly, “that makes you a liability.”
The word settled heavily between them.
Liability.
Not person.
Not woman.
Just risk.
Another security guard entered the office quietly.
“Sir, the lower floors are secured.”
Lucien nodded once.
“Double the surveillance around the east entrance.”
“Yes, sir.”
The guard left immediately.
Ivy watched the interaction carefully.
No hesitation.
No questioning.
Everyone obeyed Lucien instantly.
Like he wasn’t just wealthy.
Like he was dangerous.
She looked back at him slowly. “Who are you really?”
Something unreadable flickered across his face.
“The wrong man to know.”
The answer should’ve scared her more than it did.
Instead—
Curiosity burned hotter.
Because beneath the cold control…
There were cracks.
Tiny ones.
But real.
She saw it whenever Ethan was mentioned.
Lucien moved toward the bar near the fireplace and poured himself another bourbon.
The amber liquid caught the city lights beautifully.
Everything in this penthouse looked cinematic.
Expensive.
Deadly.
He held up the second glass without looking at her. “Drink?”
“No.”
“You should.”
“I’m not staying long enough to need alcohol.”
A faint smile touched his mouth.
“There’s that optimism again.”
Ivy ignored the comment. “I’m leaving.”
“No.”
The word came instantly.
Calm.
Absolute.
She stared at him. “You don’t get to decide that.”
Lucien finally looked up.
Something shifted in the room immediately.
Power.
Raw and invisible.
“You think tonight ends with you walking back to Brooklyn and uploading a podcast episode?” he asked quietly.
“I think you’re trying to scare me.”
“No.” He took a slow sip of bourbon. “I’m trying to prepare you.”
Thunder shook the glass walls again.
Ivy’s nerves stretched tighter.
Everything about this felt wrong.
Too fast.
Too dangerous.
She should leave.
Now.
Before she got swallowed by whatever world Lucien Vale truly belonged to.
But then—
Her phone vibrated.
Both of them looked down instantly.
Unknown Number.
Ivy hesitated before opening the message.
A photo loaded slowly.
Then her blood froze.
It was her apartment building.
Taken tonight.
Rain-covered.
Dark.
The next photo appeared.
Her apartment door.
Open.
The third photo loaded seconds later.
Her bedroom.
Destroyed.
Furniture overturned.
Mattress sliced open.
Walls covered in black spray paint.
WE KNOW ABOUT THE LIST.
Ivy stopped breathing.
“No…”
Her hands shook violently now.
Another message appeared beneath the photos.
TELL LUCIEN THE DEBT BELONGS TO HIM.
Lucien’s expression changed the moment he read it.
Not fear.
Something colder.
Recognition.
“You know who sent this.”
He took the phone from her carefully.
Too carefully.
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Lucien stared at the screen for a long moment.
Then he locked the phone.
“The kind of men who don’t tolerate loose ends.”
Ivy grabbed her coat instantly.
“I have to go.”
Lucien looked at her like she’d lost her mind.
“To where?”
“My apartment—”
“Your apartment no longer exists as a safe location.”
“I can’t just stay here!”
“You can.”
His tone remained soft.
Which somehow made it more terrifying.
Ivy backed away from him slowly.
“I don’t trust you.”
Something dark moved behind his eyes.
“You shouldn’t.”
The honesty caught her off guard.
Lucien stepped closer.
“One day,” he murmured, “you’ll understand how rare honesty is in men like me.”
The storm outside intensified.
Rain streaked down the massive windows behind him while lightning turned the room silver.
God.
He looked unreal standing there.
Beautiful in the worst possible way.
Like temptation wearing black gloves.
“I don’t belong here,” she whispered.
Lucien’s gaze lowered briefly to her trembling hands.
Then back to her eyes.
“No,” he said quietly.
“You belong exactly where they can’t reach you.”
Her heartbeat stumbled.
“Which is?”
The corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
“My world.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Dangerous.
Then suddenly—
The penthouse elevator dinged.
Not security this time.
Lucien’s entire expression hardened instantly.
One of the guards outside shouted—
“Sir!”
Too late.
The office doors burst open violently.
A woman stepped inside wearing a blood-red dress and holding a gun directly at Ivy’s chest.
Her lipstick was smeared.
Her breathing uneven.
And her eyes—
Completely insane.
“Well,” she said with a trembling smile.
“So this is the girl Ethan died for.”
- Writer
