Not his first choice

Chapter 14

Lucian spends the next few days in a restless haze, Sienna’s question echoing in his mind. What do you want?

It should be simple. He should have an answer. But the truth is, everything about her—about them—has never been simple. And that terrifies him.

So, he does what he’s always done. He chooses logic over chaos. Stability over uncertainty. And Camille Davenport is the safe option. The logical choice. The kind of woman he’s supposed to be with. Elegant. Polished. Emotionally detached.

That’s why, when his grandfather extends an invitation to dinner, he decides it’s the perfect time to formally introduce Camille to the family. If nothing else, it will solidify his decision.

---

The moment Lucian steps into his grandfather’s grand dining hall, he knows something is off. The low hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses—it all halts for just a second before resuming. But it’s enough.

And then he sees her.

Sienna.

Seated next to Damon, his younger brother, laughing at something he’s said.

His grandfather invited her?

Lucian’s grip tightens around Camille’s hand, though she barely notices. She’s too busy surveying the room with a polite but uninterested expression, offering a delicate nod to the older gentleman seated beside his grandfather.

Damon spots Lucian first, a slow smirk tugging at his lips as he leans back in his chair. “Well, well, big bro finally made it,” he drawls. “And he brought a date.”

Sienna’s laughter fades, her expression unreadable as her eyes flick between him and Camille. She gives a small, professional smile and sips her wine, but Lucian knows her well enough to recognize the subtle stiffness in her posture.

His grandfather, seated at the head of the long dining table, gestures for them to join. “Lucian, my boy, you’re late.”

Lucian schools his expression, leading Camille forward. “Traffic.”

Damon snorts. “You own half the city, yet you’re still dealing with traffic? Embarrassing.”

Lucian shoots him a glare but doesn’t engage. Instead, he pulls out a chair for Camille before taking his own seat directly across from Sienna.

A mistake.

Because now, he has a perfect view of her as she leans in to whisper something to Damon, who chuckles, draping an arm casually along the back of her chair. It’s not overly intimate, but it’s enough. Enough to make something burn hot and sharp in Lucian’s chest.

The conversation flows around him, but he barely hears any of it. Camille answers politely when addressed but doesn’t make much effort beyond that. Meanwhile, Sienna is effortlessly engaged, her laughter ringing out more than once at something Damon says.

Lucian clenches his jaw. “Didn’t realize you were invited,” he says, finally breaking his silence, directing the words at Sienna.

She arches a brow, taking her time to set her glass down. “Your grandfather and I talk often.”

His grandfather hums in agreement, cutting into his steak. “Sienna is practically family.”

Lucian doesn’t miss the pointed look his grandfather gives him.

Damon, of course, revels in the tension. “And since you are practically family,” he says to Sienna, “I figured I’d be the gentleman and escort you here myself.”

Lucian stabs a piece of food with a little too much force. “How considerate of you.”

Damon grins, unbothered. “I am the fun brother.”

“Debatable,” Lucian mutters.

Sienna rolls her eyes. “Oh please, you two are equally annoying.”

Damon clutches his chest in mock offense. “Wow. Betrayed by my own date.”

Sienna laughs, nudging him. “You’re not my date.”

Lucian exhales, forcing himself to focus on his meal, even as the conversation shifts to more neutral topics. But the tension lingers. Every time Sienna smiles at Damon, every time Damon leans in just a little too close, it gnaws at him.

Camille, ever perceptive, finally speaks up, her voice smooth but laced with something sharp. “Lucian, you never did tell me how you and Sienna know each other.”

The entire table falls into silence.

Lucian meets Sienna’s gaze, and for the first time all evening, there’s something raw there. Unspoken history. Years of it.

He could lie. Could brush it off as a professional relationship.

But that wouldn’t be the truth. And somehow, he knows Sienna wouldn’t let him get away with that.

So instead, he says, “She’s been with me for years.”

Camille tilts her head. “As your secretary?”

Lucian nods once. “Among other things.”

Sienna’s lips press together, and she reaches for her wine, sipping slowly. Damon watches the exchange with great amusement, clearly enjoying the show.

Lucian looks away first, focusing on his plate. He’s made his choice. Camille is the logical one. The safe one.

So why does it feel like he’s losing something anyway?