Falling for Lucien

Untitled Episode

CHAPTER THREE

Lucien POV

The press conference ended in chaos.

I could have told them that was what would happen if they had bothered to ask me. But they hadn't, so here we were.

Reporters were still shouting questions long after Celeste Arden stormed out, their cameras flashing like lightning in a storm as they turned to my father, Robert Valen, who gave them little to no answer before storming out the hall.

The moment the doors slammed behind us, silence crashed all around us; it was heavy and suffocating, but that was on par for the Valen household.

Robert Valen’s expression didn’t waver, not even as his son stood before him, face pale, lips pressed tight. Adrian looked exactly as annoying as I expected him to—his shoulders hunched in on himself, his voice trembling as he tried to defend himself.

“Father, I didn’t ask for this. It wasn’t supposed to—”

“Be public?” Robert’s tone was cold enough to freeze blood.

“Your stupidity already took care of that for us and made it public, Adrian.”

I leaned against the far wall, arms folded, watching the scene with detached boredom.

I hadn’t wanted to attend this charade of a press conference, but Robert had summoned me, and when the patriarch called, no one disobeyed.

So I stood there, obviously against my will, half-listening to my father’s tirade while Adrian fumbled for excuses, and I couldn’t help but think how tedious it all was.

The Valens—kings of trading empires for over five decades—were reduced to love triangles as their greatest scandal, a story that was fit for a cheap tabloid.

Robert turned suddenly, his sharp eyes landing on me.

“You,” he said, voice snapping like a whip.

“You’ll clean up this mess.”

I straightened, the first flicker of irritation breaking through my calm.

“And how exactly am I supposed to do that?”

“By marrying her,” Robert said.

“Celeste Arden.” I blinked once, slowly, and turned to look at him properly. He didn't retract the statement, and unable to help it, I laughed as Adrian went still, color draining from his face.

“You can’t be serious,” Adrian muttered.

“You can’t—”

Robert silenced him with a look.

“I can. And I have, or what did you think that fiasco at the press conference was?” he hissed softly.

“The Arden family is crucial to our financial foothold. After your public humiliation of their daughter, they will be ready to pull every partnership we have. This ‘realignment’ is the only way to save the Valen name.”

My jaw tightened.

“So I’m to be payment for your son’s idiocy.”

Robert’s lips twitched into something that might’ve been a smile.

“You’re part of this family, Lucien. It’s time you prove it.”

The words struck deeper than they should have. Part of this family.

The hidden magic words were used only when he wanted to guilt trip me into doing something for him.

I had been eight years old when Robert brought me to the Valen mansion—an orphan with a name no one cared to remember. I’d been groomed to serve the Valens’ empire, educated, trained, and molded into something useful. And for years, I’d played my part perfectly—the silent, obedient, spare.

But I had grown tired of that role a long time ago, and it wouldn't take me too long to get rid of it. So the idea of being used again, this time as a pawn in a marriage, curdled my blood.

“No,” I said flatly.

Robert’s brows arched.

“No?”

“I’m not marrying some spoiled princess who can’t handle rejection.” I hissed quietly, but the venom laced beneath it made Adrian flinch.

“If she’s weak enough to faint over a broken engagement, she’s not worth my name.”

Robert moved before I could react; the slap cracked across my cheek sharply. Adrian was startled, stepping back, but I didn’t move.

I turned my head slightly, my cheek still stinging from the force, but his expression remained cold. Robert’s voice dropped to a low growl.

“You were adopted into this family to serve a purpose, boy. Don’t mistake generosity for complacency. If you refuse this marriage, then what good are you? A stray I took in out of pity?”

My hands curled into fists at my sides. For a second, something dark flickered in my chest—rage, raw and old, pressing against the cage I usually kept it locked in. I could feel the burn behind my ribs, the instinct to lash out, to finally remind the great Robert Valen that his control had limits.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I drew a slow breath, forcing the fury back down until it was a cold, quiet thing. Then I smiled—calmly, like I had practiced so many times before.

“You’re right,” I said.

“I owe you everything. I’ll do my part for the family.”

Robert studied me for a long moment, perhaps sensing the threat beneath the calm. But he only nodded once.

“Good. The engagement announcement will be formalized with her family tomorrow. Make sure the press sees you both together. We need the public narrative to change—Adrian’s recklessness has already cost us enough.”

My gaze flicked toward him, and Adrian’s eyes darted away immediately.

Coward.

I turned on my heel and walked out of the room before my control snapped. I stormed into the hallway and headed outside to my car; the door slammed closed, and the driver didn't wait before he was speeding off.

I looked into the mirror, my reflection staring back at me, the only evidence of what had just happened being the faint red imprint on my cheek. I adjusted my tie, forcing my breath to even out.

The car arrived at the company, and I stepped out, the doorman arriving with an umbrella overhead. I took it from him and walked to the door; the office was dark and the elevator empty.

I entered into my office at the end of the hall, closing the door behind me. The city skyline stretched beyond the glass wall, neon lights bleeding into the storm clouds.

The rain hadn’t stopped since the conference. I poured myself a glass of scotch, the burn of the liquid grounding me.

My phone buzzed on the desk—a message from my assistant.

Celeste Arden's schedule.

I opened it without hesitation and scanned it over, scoffing that it was just as I expected: a princess who did nothing more than what her parents' money did.

An image showed her stepping into her car, drenched in rain, chin lifted in defiance despite the chaos behind her.

He studied the picture for a long moment, tapping his finger against the rim of the glass.

Celeste Arden.

He remembered seeing her earlier, briefly before she stormed out. She’d looked… different, not at all like the sniveling heiress he’d expected; there were too many contradictory things about her.

From her glaring at that reporter to silencing an entire room with one look.

She was interesting.

“Not so fragile after all,” I murmured.

I’d play along, at least for now. Pretend to be the obedient son, the dutiful fiancé. But he wasn’t a pawn.

, and Celeste Arden wasn’t a prize.

If anything, she was a challenge.

He smiled faintly, the kind that never reached his eyes.