Where Hatred Ends

Chapter 2

Lucien

People have always been fascinated by the idea of me.

The magazines call me a visionary. Business analysts prefer words like calculating, relentless, and untouchable. Society pages have dubbed me the city's most eligible bachelor more times than I care to count, while my competitors seem convinced I spend every waking moment plotting their downfall.

It's amusing, really.

None of them have ever bothered asking who I actually am.

Not that I would tell them.

Mystery has always been far more profitable than honesty.

I leaned back in my chair, letting my gaze wander beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows of my office. Forty-three stories below, the city pulsed with its usual rhythm. Cars crawled through traffic like ants, pedestrians hurried along sidewalks with somewhere important to be, and construction cranes stretched toward the sky as if trying to outgrow the buildings surrounding them.

Most people looked at this view and saw success.

I saw responsibility.

Every glass tower in the financial district reminded me of another meeting to attend, another contract to negotiate, another impossible decision waiting on my desk.

People assumed success felt exhilarating.

The truth?

It was exhausting.

There wasn't a dramatic story behind it, no secret formula that transformed an ordinary man into the youngest CEO in the country. There were only countless sleepless nights, sacrificed weekends, missed birthdays, and more cups of coffee than any doctor would ever approve of.

Success didn't happen overnight.

It happened every morning when you dragged yourself out of bed long before the sun rose and convinced yourself to do it all over again.

A soft knock interrupted my thoughts.

"Come in."

The office door opened just enough for Adrian to step inside. In the four years he'd worked for me, I'd learned he had an almost supernatural ability to appear whenever my schedule demanded it. Impeccably dressed, tablet tucked beneath one arm, and wearing the same calm expression he carried into every crisis, he was probably the closest thing I had to organized chaos.

"The Valencia representatives have arrived," he informed me.

I glanced toward the clock mounted above the bookshelf.

"They're early."

"They arrived about fifteen minutes ago."

I couldn't help nodding.

"Punctuality. I appreciate that."

Adrian remained standing where he was, though the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth suggested there was something else he hadn't said.

I narrowed my eyes.

"What?"

"It's Miss Valencia."

I sighed before he even finished.

"She's here."

"Yes."

"I assumed she would be."

"The receptionist also mentioned..." He paused, clearly choosing his words carefully. "...she doesn't look particularly thrilled about today's meeting."

A laugh escaped me before I could stop it.

"When has Seraphina Valencia ever looked thrilled to see me?"

Adrian's lips curved into a restrained smile.

"I don't believe she ever has."

"Exactly."

Truthfully, if Seraphina greeted me with a smile, I'd probably assume she'd been replaced by an impostor.

I stood from my desk, buttoning my charcoal-gray suit jacket before adjusting the cuffs of my shirt. The familiar routine grounded me. Meetings were predictable. Negotiations made sense.

People, however...

People rarely did.

As I reached for the proposal resting neatly on my desk, my thoughts drifted somewhere they had no business wandering.

Three days.

Three days since the charity gala.

Three days since I walked through a service door expecting nothing more dramatic than a quiet phone call and instead found Seraphina backed against a wall, surrounded by masked men.

I could still picture it with unsettling clarity.

The bruise already beginning to darken along her cheek.

Her breathing, heavier than she'd ever allow anyone to notice.

The defiant glare she wore despite being hopelessly outnumbered.

Most people would've panicked.

Seraphina had fought.

Even cornered, she'd refused to surrender.

Stubborn woman.

I shook the memory away.

It wasn't helping.

The security team had spent the last seventy-two hours combing through surveillance footage, interviewing witnesses, and tracing every possible lead.

They'd found almost nothing.

Which was exactly what bothered me.

Professional kidnappers made mistakes.

These men hadn't.

Someone had disabled several cameras minutes before Seraphina left the ballroom. The coordinator who'd lured her away had vanished without leaving so much as a fingerprint. Even the getaway vehicles turned out to be stolen cars abandoned less than an hour later.

It was too clean.

Far too clean.

A second knock sounded against the open door.

Adrian glanced toward the hallway before looking back at me.

"The security division also finished reviewing the last of the hotel footage."

My attention sharpened instantly.

"And?"

He stepped farther inside, lowering his voice despite the fact that we were alone.

"They confirmed your suspicion."

I folded my arms.

"There were more people involved."

He nodded once.

"Much more."

Somewhere deep inside, a feeling I'd been trying to ignore settled heavily in my chest.

I hadn't imagined it.

Six masked men didn't coordinate an operation like that by themselves.

Someone had arranged the gala invitations.

Someone had studied the hotel's security protocols.

Someone had known exactly when Seraphina would be isolated.

And someone...

Someone had expected to walk away with the daughter of one of the most powerful families in the country.

I met Adrian's gaze.

"I don't want another report summarizing what already happened."

"I know."

"I want names."

"So do I."

"Then keep digging."

"We haven't stopped."

"I don't care what it costs."

The words left my mouth more firmly than I intended.

Money had never been an issue.

Time was.

Whoever planned that kidnapping wasn't going to disappear simply because they'd failed once.

People like that adapted.

They learned.

They waited.

Which meant if they came after her once...

They'd try again.

The realization irritated me far more than it should have.

Seraphina Valencia wasn't my responsibility.

She wasn't my friend.

Half the time she looked at me as though she was debating whether homicide would be legally justifiable.

So why couldn't I stop thinking about that night?

Why did every unanswered question seem to circle back to her?

I exhaled slowly.

Because I hated unfinished business.

That's all it was.

Nothing more.

Nothing I couldn't control.

"Sir?"

Adrian's voice pulled me back before my thoughts wandered any further.

"The board is waiting."

Right.

Work.

Numbers.

Contracts.

Things that actually made sense.

I picked up the proposal folder and slipped it beneath one arm.

"Let's not keep them waiting."

Adrian opened the office door.

As we walked toward the executive conference room, the quiet hum of conversations echoed through the hallway. Employees greeted us politely before returning to their work, though I caught more than one curious glance in my direction.

Word traveled quickly.

Everyone knew today's meeting involved the Valencias.

Everyone also knew the relationship between our companies could be politely described as... complicated.

Personally?

I thought "disastrous" was the more accurate word.

Still...

If there was one person stubborn enough to survive sitting across a negotiating table from me—

It was Seraphina Valencia.