The Secret Heir’

Episode3

I stared at Lucien, trying to process what he just said. Blood is everything. The words echoed in my head, but they did not make sense. I was not some powerful heir. I was just a girl who sold books and could barely pay rent.

"This is insane," I said. "I grew up in foster care. I have nothing. I am nothing."

Lucien's eyes narrowed. "That is what they wanted you to believe. Your father had enemies, powerful ones. When you were born, he knew you would be a target. So he hid you. He gave you to a woman named Sarah Carter, paid her to raise you far away from this world. She was supposed to keep you safe until you were old enough to claim what is yours."

"Sarah," I whispered. That was the woman who raised me. She died three years ago from cancer. She never told me anything about my real parents. She never told me I was anyone special.

"She kept her promise," Lucien continued. "She kept you hidden. But now people know. Someone leaked the information, and now every person who wants power knows Vincent Blackthorn had a daughter. They know you exist, and they will not stop coming for you."

I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly feeling cold. "Why do they want me? I do not know anything about running a criminal empire. I would not even know where to start."

"They do not care about that," Lucien said. "Some want to marry you and control the empire through you. Others want to kill you so there is no heir left and they can divide the territory among themselves. And some," he paused, his grey eyes locking onto mine, "want to keep you alive and use you as a puppet."

"And which one are you?" I asked, my voice shaking.

A small smile played at the corner of his lips. "I am the one who will keep you alive, whether you like it or not."

"Why?" I demanded. "What do you get out of this?"

He stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the dark grounds. "Your father and I had an arrangement. Before he died, he asked me to watch over you if anything happened to him. I gave him my word."

"So you are doing this out of loyalty to a dead man?"

He turned to face me. "I am doing this because I keep my promises. And because I do not let anyone take what is mine to protect."

There was something in the way he said it that made my skin prickle. Like I was not just someone he was protecting, but something he owned. I did not like it.

"I want to leave," I said, standing up. "I want to go back to my apartment, pack my things, and disappear. I do not want any of this."

"You cannot," Lucien said flatly. "Your apartment is being watched. If you go back, you will be dead within an hour. Every place you have ever been, every person you have ever known, they are all being monitored now. You have no safe place except here."

"Then I will go to the police," I said desperately.

Lucien laughed, but it was not a kind sound. "The police? Half of them are on someone's payroll. You go to them, and they will hand you over to the highest bidder. There is no law that can protect you from this world, Aveline. There is only power."

I felt tears burning in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I would not cry in front of this man. "So what am I supposed to do? Just stay here and hide forever?"

"No," Lucien said, walking closer to me. "You learn. You get stronger. You decide who you want to be. Your father's empire still exists, scattered among different hands, but it exists. You have a choice. You can run and spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder, or you can take what is yours and make them all bow to you."

"I do not want to be a criminal," I whispered.

"Then what do you want?" he asked, his voice softer now. He was standing right in front of me, so close I could smell his cologne, something dark and expensive.

"I want to be free," I said.

He reached out and touched my face gently, his thumb brushing away a tear I did not realize had fallen. "Freedom is a lie people tell themselves. But power, that is real. And right now, you have more of it than you know."

I pulled away from his touch. "I need time to think."

"You have tonight," he said. "Tomorrow, we will start preparing for you. There is a meeting in three days. All the heads of the major families will be there. They want to see you, to confirm you are real. You will attend, and you will show them you are not afraid."

"But I am afraid," I admitted.

"Good," Lucien said. "Fear will keep you alive. Just do not let them see it."

A woman appeared in the doorway, older, dressed in a simple black dress. "Mr. Valeo, the room is ready."

"Thank you, Marie," Lucien said. He turned to me. "She will show you to your room. Get some rest. We have a lot of work to do."

I followed Marie up a grand staircase and down another long hallway. She opened a door to reveal a bedroom bigger than my entire apartment. There was a huge bed, a private bathroom, and a balcony overlooking the grounds.

"If you need anything, just press this button," Marie said, pointing to a panel by the bed. "Someone will come immediately."

"Thank you," I said quietly.

She nodded and left, closing the door behind her. I stood in the middle of the room, feeling completely lost. Everything had changed in a matter of hours. This morning, I was worried about paying my electric bill. Now I was apparently the heir to a criminal empire, hiding in a mansion, protected by a man who scared me almost as much as the people trying to kill me.

I walked to the balcony and looked out at the dark sky. Somewhere out there, people were planning to use me, hurt me, or kill me. People I had never met who thought they had a right to my life.

And Lucien, what did he really want? He said he made a promise to my father, but there was something else in his eyes when he looked at me. Something dark and possessive that made me feel like I was already trapped.

I heard a noise behind me and spun around. Lucien was standing in the doorway.

"I forgot to mention," he said calmly, "do not try to leave. The guards have orders to stop you. For your own safety, of course."

He left before I could respond, and I heard the click of a lock.

I ran to the door and tried the handle. It would not open. I was locked in.

I was not a guest. I was a prisoner.