QUESTIONS AND QUESTIONS?
1006 Words
Lena barely remembered leaving the office.
One second, she was standing in front of Lucien Vale trying to process the fact that a stranger had somehow turned her entire life upside down in less than thirty minutes.
"I have been looking for you."
Who even says something like that?
The elevator doors slid open quietly
The same woman from earlier stood waiting downstairs like she'd known exactly when Lena would come back down.
"Miss Lena."
Lena blinked at her. "Do you people just appear from nowhere?"
The woman's expression didn't change.
"Mr. Vale asked me to escort you out."
Of course he did.
Lena stepped past her quickly, needing air before she lost her mind completely.
The cold night air hit her face the moment she walked outside, and honestly? Thank God.
Because that office upstairs had felt suffocating.
Not suffocating, just him. Lucien Vale felt too intense. Too controlled. Like he was constantly five steps ahead of everyone else in the room.
And the worst part?
A small part of her actually considered the contract.
Which was ridiculous, absolute ridiculous.
She crossed the street without really paying attention to where she was going, hugging her arms around herself as the city lights blurred around her.
"Watch where you are going!" the man yelled.
"Sorry!" she shouted back automatically.
Her phone buzzed in her hand.
Unknown number.
Again.
She stared at it.
Then, she answered carefully. "What now?"
"You left quickly."
Lucien.
His voice was calmer over the phone somehow.
"You expected me to stay?" Lena asked incredulously. "You basically offered me a marriage contract like you were discussing the weather."
"You'll still say yes."
The confidence in his voice irritated her instantly.
"You really think highly of yourself."
"No," he replied calmly. "I think you are desperate."
That hit harder than she expected.
Because it was true, and he knew it.
"I don't even know you."
"You will."
"That's not comforting."
A pause.
"Go home, Lena."
She frowned slightly. "What?"
"Get some sleep. We'll talk tomorrow."
Before she could respond, the line disconnected.
Again.
She stared at her phone in disbelief.
"Does he always hang up like he's in a movie?"
Lena didn't sleep much. Mostly because every time she closed her eyes, she saw him.
By the morning, she was exhausted and irritated and dangerously close to losing her mind. The tiny apartment felt even smaller than usual. The unpaid bill seemed to multiply overnight.
Her landlord's warning echoed painfully in her head. Fourty-eight hours, no more.
A knock sounded at the door.
Lena groaned softly, dragging herself over to open it.
A woman stood outside holding several large bags.
Elegant. Polished. Definitely expensive-looking.
"Miss Lena Hart?"
"Yes?"
"These are for you."
Lena stared at the bags. I didn't order anything."
"There are from Mr. Vale."
Of course they were.
"Absolutely not."
The woman looked unfazed. "He insisted."
Still, the woman calmly handed over a small envelope.
Lena opened it cautiously.
Inside was a short handwritten note.
YOU'LL NEED SOMETHING SUITABLE TO WEAR
Her eye twitched.
"What exactly does he think is happening here?"
The woman hesitated slightly before answering.
"Mr Vale requested for your presence for dinner tonight."
Lena laughed in disbelief.
"Requested?"
"Yes."
"This man is insane."
The woman did not disagree.
She should not have gone, Lena knew that.
Every logical thought in her brain told her to block his number and run in the opposite direction.
Instead, she found herself standing outside another one of Lucien Vale's properties hours later.
Apparently, the man collected buildings the way normal people collected shoes.
The mansion looked unreal under the evening lights.
Massive windows glowed gold against the dark sky. Expensive cars lined the driveway. Security stood near the gates.
Definitely billionaire-level rich.
Lena suddenly became very aware of her borrowed dress.
The front doors opened before she even reached them.
A tall older man greeted her politely. "Miss Hart. Mr. Vale is waiting."
"Of course he is."
The man almost smiled.
She followed him through the enormous house, trying not to stare too obviously at everything.
The place was beautiful in a cold sort of way.
It was very modern, with a touch of rusty elements. The furniture was perfect, the lighting was not too much, perfect silence. It didn't feel lived in. It felt controlled.
The man stopped outside a set of dark wooden doors.
"Right through there."
Lena took a breath before stepping inside.
The room was dimly lit, warm from the fire burning nearby.
But Lucien wasn't there.
"Hello?" she called cautiously.
No answer.
She turned to look around slowly.
Bookshelves lined the walls. A bar stood near the windows. Framed photographs rested across a long shelf above the fireplace.
Without thinking, Lena stepped closer.
At first, she barely paid attention.
Until one picture made her stop completely.
Her breath caught.
Her hands trembled slightly as she picked the frame up.
The picture was old. It was faded around the edges. But unmistakable.
A little girl smiling at the camera beside a lake.
Messy hair, gap-toothed grin, scrapped knees. It was her, Lena.
Her pulse turned uneven.
"What...."
She stared harder. There was someone else in the photo.
A teenage boy standing beside her.
Tall, dark-haired.
One arm wrapped proctectively around her shoulders.
His face was partially hidden by sunlight, but not enough.
The door opened behind her quietly.
Lena turned sharply,
Lucien stood there, arms folded, watching her.
He was not surprised or confused.
Like he had known exactly what she would find.
Her voice came out smaller than she intended, almost completely inaudible.
"Why do you have this picture?"
For a moment, neither of them moved. They stood watching the other.
Then Lucien stepped closer slowly, his eyes solely fixed on the photograph in her shaking hands.
"You kept it," she whispered.
Something unreadeable crossed his face.
"Yes."
Lena looked between him and the picture again, her chest tightening painfully.
Suddenly, the boy in the picture did not feel unfamiliar anymore.
And that terrified her even more.
- Writer
