The 22nd Day of the Marriage Game
Lucien turned from the balcony, his pulse drumming in his ears. The city sprawled beneath him, indifferent to the war he was preparing to wage. Tomorrow, Joule Gozon would stand before Neoma, polished and perfect. The thought made Lucien’s teeth clench. Circumstances had already decided Joule was the rightful victor—safe, predictable, everything Wile Belmonte would want in a son-in-law.
But Lucien wasn’t interested in any of those at all.
He stepped back inside the study, the scent of aged brandy and polished wood thick in the air. Wile Belmonte barely looked up, his fingers curling around his crystal glass as he took a slow sip. His dark eyes gleamed with a quiet amusement—a man who had seen too many battles to be fazed by ambition alone.
He wasted no
