Beneath HIS EMPIRE

chapter 8

They took Mason. The words broke something inside me.

I ran past Lucien toward the burning building. Smoke burned my throat. It tasted like poison. “Where is he?” Lucien grabbed my wrist. His hand was hard. Rough. Not mean. But strong. “Selene.” “Let go.”

Rain hit the loading dock hard. Each drop felt like ice. Ash filled the air and made my tongue taste bitter. Smoke poured from the broken building while guns fired in the street. The sound hurt my head. Lucien’s men put bodies into SUVs like they did this every day. My brother was gone. “Who took him?” “We don’t know yet.”

He looked at the senator’s cars driving away. Lights gone in the storm. “You know who did it.”

A black SUV drove fast toward us through the rain. Tires screamed on wet ground. Lucien’s main guard jumped out. Water ran off his suit. His hands were white on his gun. “Police coming.” Lucien opened the car door. “Get in.” “Not without answers.” “You stay, you die.” “I don’t care.” “I do.”

He pushed me into the SUV. The door shut hard. My ears hurt from the bang. Three guards got in with us, guns ready. The seats smelled like blood and smoke. Bad. Lucien got in last. He shook rain from his hair. Drops hit my face. Cold. “Drive.”

The cars sped into traffic just as police sirens filled the street behind us. Blue and red lights came through the dark windows. No one talked. Rain ran down the glass. The city looked blurry outside. Lights all mixed up. My heart would not slow down. It hit my chest like it wanted out. My hands shook in my lap. I balled them into fists to stop it. Didn’t work.

Lucien’s phone buzzed. He picked up. No hello. “Talk.”

It was quiet for too long. His face got darker with each word. A muscle moved in his jaw. “Keep him alive,” he said. His voice was low. Dangerous. “I want men at every airport. Every dock. Every road out of the city. If he leaves, I want names.” He hung up.

“Mason.”

“Alive.”

“How do you know?”

“Dead men have no value.”

His voice stayed the same. My stomach turned. It felt sick. “You talk like this is business.” “It is business.” I looked away before I got too mad. Before I hit him. Lucien watched me from the side. Thinking. Counting. I hated it. It felt like a knife. “You don’t get to look at me like that.” “Like what?” “Like I’m part of your math.”

The SUV went into a garage under Lucien’s tall building. The air smelled like gas and wet stone. Guards were everywhere. Guns ready. Boots made loud sounds. Too many guns. This place was ready for war. Lucien got out first. “Come.” I stayed in the car. The door handle was cold in my hand. “I’m not moving until you tell me what’s going on.” Lucien shut the car door. The sound echoed. We were alone now. Bad sign.

“You want the truth?” Rain dripped from his hair to the ground. Each drop was loud. The lights made sharp shadows on his face. Hard. Like stone. “The senator works for The Circle. Judges. Rich men. Bad people. Criminals. They control money in three countries.” “The book.” “Yes.” “And my dad stole it.” “No. He copied it.”

That was worse. Like eating broken glass. “Why?” “To protect himself.” The word bounced off the walls. It came back heavier. Lucien took out a smoke, lit it fast. The fire was bright. Orange. Sharp. He breathed in once. Smoke came from his mouth. First time he looked stressed all night. “People died to protect that book. Your dad too.” “You said he helped them.” “He did.” “Your dad paid my dad before he turned on him.”

The truth hit my teeth. I tasted metal. Old blood. “What does your family do?” It was quiet. So quiet my ears rang. Then: “Everything.” No wait. No sorry. I knew he meant it. My skin got cold.

Lucien stepped closer. Only a little space left between us. I could smell him now — rain, smoke, and something dark like old whiskey. His suit smelled like gun oil. “My dad built the Armand name with banks, ships, blackmail, and guns. Every man you see on TV has dirty secrets. We keep them.” Cold went down my back. My fingers felt numb. “And your family runs it?” “Enough of it.”

I remembered something. The senator said: Promised to the Armand family. I looked at Lucien. “Your older brother.” His face shut down. Like a steel door. Bad topic. “Dead.” “You never told me he was real.” “You never asked.” “Was this deal his first?”

Wrong thing to say. The air got thin. Hard to breathe. Lucien stepped on the smoke, crushed it into the ground. Slow. On purpose. “Yes.” The answer hit my gut. Hard. I stared at him. “So if he lived, I would have married him?” “You were never his.” “Why not?”

His phone rang again. Dante. He didn’t pick up. The buzz felt loud. “That’s not your business.” Another lie. Another secret. It sat between us, thick like the smoke outside. “My brother is gone because of your business.” “Your brother is gone because your father made enemies.”

The phone rang again. This time he answered. He listened. Said nothing. His whole body went still. Every muscle. Like a statue. “What happened?” I asked. Lucien didn’t answer. Didn’t move his eyes. That was worse than yelling. Worse than a gun.

He put the phone down slow. “Someone on my team is a traitor.” The guards near us froze. Hands went to their guns. Clicks were loud. Lucien looked at every man in the garage. Slow. Like hunting. Then he spoke. No mad. Just fact. “One of them sold Mason.” No one moved. No one breathed. The air turned to ice in my lungs.

Lucien pulled his gun.

The sound was loud. Like thunder.

And pointed it at his own top guard.

The guard didn’t flinch. He just looked at me. Then back at Lucien. Like he knew something I didn’t.

I stopped breathing. I couldn’t move.

If he pulls that trigger, I’m next.