Falling for Lucien

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FOUR

Celeste POV

By the time I reached the Arden estate, it was way past my bedtime.

I got out of the car, my heels clicking against the marble driveway as my driver pulled away, leaving me to face the looming mansion in front of me.

I wanted to be anywhere but here, but alas, through the tall glass doors, I could already see them waiting—Lucas and Marjorie Arden, my parents in this world.

I wasn't sure what I thought about having parents in this life after all; I had been an orphan before, but I was about to find out.

The butler barely opened the door before my father’s voice thundered across the hall.

“Celeste Arden, explain yourself right now!”

I didn’t flinch; my new body might have been trembling on the inside, but I already learned that the heiress of the Arden family was doted on by her father, so whatever shouting from him would be mainly bluster. It was her, or was it my mother I had to watch out for?

My father was standing near the grand staircase, a vein pulsing at his temple. He was a big man with large shoulders, thick thighs, and palms that would wrap around my head quite easily, but he carried his size with elegance, wrapped in a sharp suit, with an even sharper glare. My mother, Marjorie, sat gracefully on the velvet couch, her manicured hands folded on her lap, a diamond ring glinting with quiet menace.

“The Valens,” Father spat the name like poison.

“Have humiliated this family! Do you realize what it means that they transferred your engagement in public? We are not pawns for their amusement!”

He slammed his palm against the armrest of a chair so hard I thought it might crack.

I took a slow breath, folding my hands in front of me.

“Father—” I mumbled, and he glanced at me in surprise; I winced. So the original host definitely didn't call him that. I tried again.

“Dad...I understand how it looks, but—”

“Understand?” he cut in.

“You should have stopped it. You let them make a fool out of you, and by extension—our name!”

The weight of his disappointment settled like a stone on my chest, but I kept my chin high. The real Celeste Arden would have been sobbing by now, but that girl was gone.

“I’ll handle it,” I said quietly.

For a moment, silence followed. My father blinked, as though he hadn’t heard me right.

Christ, what had this girl been doing with half her life?

“Handle it?” He mumbled as if he wasn't quite sure those were the words he heard, and I nodded.

“Yes,” I said, meeting his eyes.

“There’s no need to pull out of any deals or burn bridges, especially now that we need the Fogue deal. This isn’t the time to make enemies. I’ll take care of the situation with the Valens.”

He scowled, looking annoyed.

“You thinking you can fix this worries me,” he muttered underneath his breath, and I struggled to hold back my laughter.

“I'm sure I can survive, Dad,” she mumbled, patting his back, and he huffed.

“It's a broken engagement announced before the entire city? What could you possibly do, Celeste?”

Before I could answer, my mother’s voice slid into the space between us—soft, controlled, and far more dangerous.

“Lucas,” she murmured.

“Let her speak.”

Father huffed but subsided, pacing like a lion behind the couch. My mother turned to me with a gaze that could have frozen fire.

“I must say, darling, I didn’t expect you to be this calm. Not after what that boy did to you,” she mumbled.

“I expected to have you throw a tantrum for me to refix the wedding,” she added when I said nothing.

I smiled faintly.

“I’ll never cry over a man who doesn’t deserve me.”

That made her pause, and slowly, her lips curved into a satisfied smile.

“That’s more like an Arden,” she said approvingly.

“And less like our daughter,” Father added, looking at me from head to toe.

Rising from her seat, she smoothed down the folds of her emerald gown, the diamonds on her wrists catching the light.

“Still, we cannot simply let this slide. The Valens have embarrassed us, and they need to be reminded what happens when you do that.”

She looked to Father.

“The upcoming shipping contract with Valen Holdings—”

“Yes,” Father muttered darkly.

“We were set to sponsor their expansion into Eastern Europe.”

“Pull our sponsorship,” Mother said smoothly.

“Let them feel the loss where it hurts most. That should teach them about realigning anything without our consent.” I almost hummed at the ruthlessness of it all, but I had to think beyond just that. I took a step forward.

“Wait.”

Both of them turned to me.

“I think,” I said carefully,

“We should let them sweat first. If we withdraw now, they’ll simply find another investor and move on. But if we delay—make them think we’re still on board—then pull out just before the contract signing, it’ll cause them maximum damage. And they won’t be able to recover immediately.”

Marjorie blinked, then her smile deepened with delight.

“My, my. When did you grow such claws, darling?”

I shrugged lightly.

“You said it yourself. I am an Arden.”

Father grunted, though I could tell he was impressed.

“Very well,” he said finally, sitting down again.

“You do what you must, but I won’t tolerate another scandal, Celeste. We have been a respected old family for years.”

Reputation. Power. Legacy.

Words that meant everything in this world—he was right, though; right now those were the only things that mattered to these people, and I would work with that.

“I will remember that, Dad,” I said softly, and he looked to me, finally, the rage leaving his body like someone had cut the string holding him together.

“How are you?” he asked, and I shrugged.

“I'm fine.” I muttered, and he huffed.

“Are you ok? I know you loved him,” he offered, and I shook my head.

“It doesn't matter. He doesn't feel the same way.”

“Go get some rest; shopping might help,” he mumbled, handing me a car, and I took it grinning.

“I'm sure it will, Dad.” I muttered, grabbing my bag off the table.

“I'm exhausted,” she whispered and climbed the grand staircase to my new room.

The room itself was a dream, way better than what I was used to: silver and white decor that was ethereal with the moonlight pouring in through tall windows. The rain had long stopped, so it was quiet.

I walked towards my dress and caught sight of my reflection in the mirror and stopped.

I had the chance for the first time to examine my new body.

Celeste Arden looked good—glossy hair cascading down her shoulders, eyes the color of topaz, face sculpted to perfection. I would have liked my breasts from my old body, but what the hell, I still looked like the kind of woman men ruined themselves for.

I sat before the vanity, fingers brushing the jewelry scattered across the table, when a knock on the door pulled me out of my thoughts.

It was the housekeeper, a kind-faced woman in her fifties.

“Miss Arden,” she said softly,

“Your mother said to find out if you would have dinner.” She mumbled.

“Tell her I’m not hungry,” I replied, and she hesitated.

“Should I bring you tea instead?”

I smiled faintly.

“Yes, please. Something strong.”

My phone buzzed immediately after she stepped out of the room, and I picked it up. It was a text message from an unknown number.

Curious to see how long the little kitten lasts.

A chill ran down my spine.

I didn’t need to wonder who it was; there was only one person who could send me a text at this time of night to threaten me—it could only be Lucien Valen.

I smiled, dropping the phone on my desk; the game had just begun.