Chapter Nine: Ghosts Don't Knock, They Walk In
782 Words
By the time they got back to the city, Amara felt like someone had wrapped her thoughts in static. Every sound was louder. Every glance from passing strangers felt heavier. She’d been gone only five days, but it felt like the world had moved three steps ahead without her.
Lucien hadn’t said much since the call. He’d watched her, studied her like she was a puzzle with a missing piece.
She hated it.
Hated how the man who made her feel safe now made her feel... monitored.
He pulled up in the underground garage of Vale International’s penthouse suite and cut the engine. “You should stay here until the dust settles.”
“No,” she said, opening the door. “I need my own air.”
Lucien got out too. “Amara—”
“You don’t own me,” she said, spinning to face him. “You can run your company, your headlines, your board—fine. But don’t think for a second you get to manage my life.”
His jaw ticked. “I’m trying to protect you.”
“From what? Or who?”
Lucien didn’t answer.
That pause? That slight, loaded hesitation? It told her more than his silence ever could.
“There’s something you’re not telling me,” she whispered.
Still, nothing.
She stepped closer, her voice low and tight. “You knew he was watching me, didn’t you?”
Lucien flinched just slightly. Not enough to catch to the untrained eye, but Amara saw it. She felt it.
“I had a feeling he’d reach out,” he admitted.
“Lucien.”
“I didn’t expect it so soon,” he added quickly. “But he’s not someone who disappears quietly.”
She stepped back like he’d slapped her. “So you’ve been playing both sides.”
“No.”
“You’re playing me.”
“No,” he said again, firmer now. “I’ve been working with a federal contact who’s watching Dominic’s moves. You think I’d let you walk into my life without knowing who might come crawling out of yours?”
Her hands curled into fists. “So you’ve had me watched.”
“I’ve had you protected.”
She laughed bitterly. “There's no difference when you don’t ask permission.”
“Don’t act like you don’t understand strategy, Amara. You’ve been playing chess since you were fifteen.”
“Yeah. To survive. Not to control.”
They stood in the middle of the parking garage, the air between them thick with smoke that hadn’t fully caught fire—yet.
Lucien stepped forward, voice lower. “He’s not done, Amara. He’s going to make you choose. And if you choose wrong, it’s not just your reputation that’ll burn. It’ll be your future. And mine.”
She didn’t flinch.
She just stared.
“I don’t know what I am to you,” she said, voice shaking, “but I’m not your pawn. I’m not your rescue project. And I’m not your guilt.”
Lucien’s eyes dropped, jaw tight.
“Then tell me what you are,” he said softly. “Right now.”
She hesitated.
Because even she didn’t know.
---
Hours later, Amara paced her small apartment like the walls were closing in. She’d ignored six calls—four from Lucien, two from an unknown number.
The seventh came in at 11:14 p.m.
Blocked ID.
She answered with a steelier voice this time. “You have sixty seconds.”
“I need a face-to-face,” Dominic said. “One time. Neutral ground. No tricks.”
“There’s nothing left to say.”
“You think I’m calling because of you?” He laughed, but it sounded hollow. “This isn’t about family. It’s about survival.”
“What are you talking about?”
“There’s a file,” he said, quieter now. “Something I left behind before my arrest. It was meant to be buried. But Lucien found it. He’s using it.”
Her blood chilled. “Using it how?”
“He didn’t just ‘rebuild’ Vale International. He bought it with leverage—my leverage. He made your silence part of the deal.”
“No.”
“He kept you close, Amara. Not just for who you are—but for what you know.”
She gripped the phone tighter, voice barely audible. “You’re lying.”
“Then ask him about the 2019 Valencia fund. Ask him why it was scrubbed from public records. And then ask yourself why the man who claims to protect you is scared you’ll find out.”
The line went dead again.
But this time, so did something inside her.
- Writer
