The Voss Legacy
477 Words
The city looked different at night.
Colder.
Sharper.
Less forgiving.
Lucien sat in the back seat of a sleek black car as it moved smoothly through the quiet streets of Florence. Streetlights flickered past the window in rhythmic intervals, casting brief shadows across his face.
He was quiet.
Not distracted.
Just… thinking.
Maxine.
It wasn’t just her name.
It was everything about her.
The way she spoke—light, effortless.
The way she carried herself—calm, untouched.
The way she looked at people—like she saw more than they showed.
Lucien leaned back slightly, his gaze shifting to the window.
Most people tried too hard.
Too loud. Too careful. Too fake.
She wasn’t.
And that was what stayed with him.
The car slowed as it approached a gated estate.
Tall iron gates slid open silently, revealing a vast property beyond—modern, sharp, and imposing. The kind of place that didn’t just belong to wealth…
But power.
The car came to a stop.
Before the driver could move, the door opened from outside.
“Welcome back, sir.”
Lucien stepped out without a word, his expression already composed again.
Controlled.
Inside, the atmosphere changed.
The house was quiet—but not peaceful.
Structured.
Measured.
“Lucien.”
The voice came from the far end of the room.
Deep. Calm. Commanding.
His father.
Lucien turned slightly.
“Father.”
The man stood near the window, hands clasped behind his back. His presence filled the room without effort—cold, precise, calculating.
“Your first day,” he said. “How was it?”
Lucien didn’t hesitate.
“Productive.”
His father’s gaze shifted toward him.
“And the environment?”
“Disciplined. Competitive.”
A pause.
“Useful.”
His father nodded slightly, satisfied.
“Good. You’ll need that.”
Lucien remained still, waiting.
He knew better than to speak unnecessarily.
“Did anything… unusual occur?” his father asked, his tone almost casual.
Lucien’s mind flickered—
Just for a second.
Maxine.
Her eyes.
Her presence.
Then—
Gone.
“No,” he said evenly. “Nothing unusual.”
His father studied him for a moment longer than necessary.
Then turned away.
“Very well.”
Lucien exhaled internally, though nothing showed on his face.
“May I be excused?”
A slight nod.
He didn’t wait.
Upstairs, his room was dimly lit, minimalist, precise—everything in its place.
Lucien loosened his tie, setting it aside before walking toward the window.
The city stretched out before him, glowing softly under the night sky.
He should have been thinking about school.
About expectations.
About his father.
But he wasn’t.
“…Max,” he murmured under his breath.
A small, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips.
For the first time in a long while—
Something had caught his attention.
And he didn’t yet know why.
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