Monaco, Midnight
The city was quiet. The sea moved like it was holding secrets.
Lucia pulled on a black coat and left through the side gate. She didn't tell anyone. She didn't take the car. She walked. The cold wind hit her face, but it made her feel alive. It was the only thing tonight that felt real.
The marina waited ahead. Boats rocked gently against the dark water. Lights from the city touched the surface like broken gold. She kept her head down and moved fast, one hand inside her pocket, holding the note tight.
Someone was waiting at the end of the dock.
He wore a dark jacket, hood up. She slowed down but didn't stop. Her heart was beating hard. She had grown up around sharks in suits. Fear was not new.
"Lucia."
The voice was low. She knew it. She froze.
"Lena?"
The hood came down. It was Lena Vexley. Her eyes were red like she had been crying, but her lips were pulled into a smile that wasn't a smile at all.
"You shouldn't be here," Lucia whispered.
"Neither should you," Lena said. "But here we are."
Lucia looked around. No guards. No cameras. Only water and wind. "Why did you send that letter?"
"Because someone should tell you the truth," Lena said. "And it won't come from him."
"Damien?"
Lena laughed, soft and bitter. "My dear brother, the golden prince. Do you know what kind of man you're about to marry?"
Lucia held her breath. She didn't speak.
"He's good at pretending," Lena said slowly. "Good at making people love him. But he's just like them. Cold. Controlled. Dangerous."
"Why are you telling me this?" Lucia asked.
Lena stepped closer. "Because I don't want to see another woman burn for this family."
Her voice cracked on the last word.
Something inside Lucia shifted. For the first time, she saw Lena not as a spoiled socialite, but as a girl carrying a wound she couldn't hide anymore.
"What happened?" Lucia whispered.
Lena's eyes glistened. "This family doesn't protect love. It kills it."
The words feel heavy between them.
A sound came from the other end of the dock. Shoes against wood. A shadow moved under the lights.
Lena stiffened. Lucia turned quickly.
Damien.
He walked toward them in a black coat, his steps steady. His face was unreadable.
"What are you doing here?" he asked. His voice was calm, but there was something sharp underneath.
Lucia's pulse raced. "You followed me."
"You shouldn't be here at midnight," he said. "It's not safe."
"For who?" Lena shot back. "For her, or for your secrets?"
Damien's eyes flicked to his sister. "Lena."
"No," she snapped. "She deserves to know the truth."
Lucia looked between them. The air felt thick. She could see the tension in their faces, like a rope pulled too tight.
"What truth?" Lucia demanded.
Lena took a step forward. "Tell her, Damien. Tell her about Elise. Tell her about the deal. Tell her why this wedding isn't love. It's blood."
"Stop," Damien said low. "You don't know what you're"
"Yes, I do!" Lena yelled. "I live in the same house as you. I've watched everything. The lies. The fear. The way they use people."
Lucia's breath shook. Her heart felt like it was being crushed from the inside.
"You're marrying me to cover something up," she said quietly.
Damien didn't deny it. He looked at her, and his silence was louder than any answer.
Tears burned behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
"This is all a game to you," she whispered.
"It's not a game," he said.
"Then what is it?"
He opened his mouth, but no words came out.
The wind grew stronger. A small boat in the corner creaked against the dock. Lena's eyes filled with water, and she didn't blink away.
"Run if you can, Lucia," Lena said softly. "Before they make you like us."
Lucia took a step back. Her chest ached.
Damien reached out a hand. "Lucia, don't."
She stared at that hand. Perfect. Steady. Dangerous.
Then she turned and walked away. Fast.
The sound of her heels echoed through the night like a broken promise.
Lena watched her leave.
Damien stood frozen.
"She deserves to know," Lena said.
"You just made everything worse," Damien replied.
"No," she whispered, voice shaking. "You did that the moment you chose to lie."
Back at the mansion, Lucia locked herself in her room. She sat on the floor, hands pressed to her chest. Everything hurt. The walls felt too close. The bed felt too cold.
She whispered to herself, "I will not be their puppet."
Outside, the city lights blinked like a warning.
Lucia's phone buzzed. A message flashed on the screen.
"You don't know the full story. Meet me tomorrow, alone". — Elise