Chapter 3: Not Sold Again
He hated that it was working. That he didn’t flinch. That a part of him, buried deep beneath the rot and the silence, whispered Yes. This time, choose better. Choose first.
Serathine didn’t wait for a response.
She turned without a word and walked down the white steps of the temple, her heels tapping against polished concrete as the glass doors slid shut behind them.
Outside, the sky was sharp and cloudless. The city stretched upward in seamless layers of steel and stone. Banners hung from the light posts in imperial gold and navy, marking the Temple District. Across the street, a fountain bubbled in controlled symmetry, barely loud enough to drown out the hum of distant traffic.
A black car waited at the curb. Glossy, silent. Government plates. The kind that said power without saying anything at all. Misty would give anything for this kind of influence.
Serathine approached it like it belonged to her. Of course, it did.
She turned halfway, one perfectly arched brow lifted just enough.
"I assume you don’t have anything planned today," she said.
Lucas stared at her.
The phrasing wasn’t a question. It was a statement in silk, soft but undeniable.
"No," he said. His voice came out flat.
Something told him that he didn’t.