CHAPTER 269: CHAPTER 269: DANGEROUS PLANS

Mia sat up straighter, steeling herself. "Alright. Serious this time." She clasped her hands in her lap like she was about to interrogate a war criminal. "So, brother dearest, what type of suppressant do you take? When did you start, and how did you find them?"

Lucas didn’t even hesitate. He shifted in his seat, crossed one leg over the other, and somehow managed to radiate disdain without moving more than an inch. His voice dropped lower, steady and sharp, carrying the kind of clipped bite that made Mia’s stomach flip.

"Why?" he asked flatly. "So you can run and tell him? So you can remind me again that I’m a liability who shouldn’t exist?"

Mia blinked, her mouth falling open. "What..."

Lucas leaned in, eyes narrowing with unshakable precision, his tone laced with cold amusement. "Don’t stutter. If you’re going to pry into my life, at least pretend you’re clever while you do it."

The fry box slipped out of Mia’s hands, forgotten between them. "Holy shit," she whispered. "That’s... that’s him. That’s exactly him."

Lucas arched one elegant brow, lounging back like he owned the room. "Oh? Did I hit the right octave of soul-crushing disappointment, or does he glare harder when you annoy him?"

Mia gaped, pointing at him like he’d just performed witchcraft. "You’ve never even met him. How the hell are you doing that?"

Lucas smirked, stealing another fry with infuriating calm. "Talent. Or maybe we’re both dominant omegas with excellent taste in being difficult. Who’s to say?"

Mia dragged her hands down her face. "This is insane. You’re better at being Chris than Chris is. He’s going to smell my nerves the second I try."

Lucas chewed slowly, deliberately smug. "Then don’t try."

Her eyes snapped up. "What am I supposed to do, then?"

Lucas leaned forward, a grin curling sharp as a blade. "Simple. Let’s call him. He has to meet your new friend and I’m sure there is something he wants badly enough to give us the information. Dax doesn’t have to know how you got the information."

Mia’s eyes went huge. "You’re insane. Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? Chris is under so much security he can’t sneeze without Dax’s men cataloguing it. If I call him on video, they’ll see you."

Lucas tilted his head, amused. "Good. Let them. I’d love to meet the King’s pet guards. Besides..." he plucked another fry like the world wasn’t on fire around him, "it’s not like I’m a threat. I’m just a bored omega on a couch. What could possibly go wrong?"

Mia groaned. "You have no idea how fast Chris will eviscerate me if he thinks I set him up. He’ll smell a lie before I even say hello."

Lucas leaned in, voice dropping into that sharp, uncanny echo of Chris again: "Then let me talk first. He’ll be too busy glaring at me to notice your nerves."

Mia slapped the couch cushion between them. "You can’t just decide to talk to my brother!"

"Oh, but I can," Lucas purred, eyes glinting violet. "Because here’s the thing: your brother likes answers. He’s stubborn, but he’s also starving for control. If I give him a reason to think I have something he wants? He’ll listen. Even if he hates me."

Mia froze, because that, disturbingly, sounded true.

Lucas sat back, smug. "So. Call him. You get to look like the helpful sister. I get my entertainment. And maybe, just maybe, we get to hear what the great Christopher says when he finally meets someone who talks back without flinching."

Mia’s thumb hovered over the call button, her stomach twisting. "This is a terrible idea."

Lucas grinned like a man about to light a match in a powder room. "Which means it’s the best kind."

Mia’s thumb hovered for one beat too long. The line began to ring, and she nearly slammed her phone face-down in panic.

Lucas caught her wrist, steady and unyielding. "Too late."

The screen lit up. Christopher’s face appeared, framed in harsh Saha light. His dark hair was damp, pushed back like he’d just washed it, but his expression was already the same sharp-edged scowl Mia had warned about, calm, cold, and fucking suspicious.

"Mia." His voice carried the kind of weight that made her spine snap straight. "Why are you calling me on video?"

"Uh... because..."

Chris’s gaze narrowed instantly, cutting through the excuse before it formed. "Who’s there with you?"

Lucas, perfectly unbothered, leaned into the frame with a lazy smile, propping his chin in his hand like he was introducing himself at a dinner party instead of barging into Chris’s fortress of paranoia. "Hello, Christopher. Lovely to meet you. I’ve heard so much."

For a heartbeat, silence.

Then Chris’s eyes sharpened, cold suspicion flickering across his face. He didn’t move, but Mia swore she felt the weight of him calculating. Measuring. "Who the hell is that?"

Lucas gave a mock little bow, even sitting down. "Lucas Oz D’Argente Fitzgeralt. Or, if you prefer, Trevor’s very bored spouse."

Mia slapped her forehead, muttering under her breath. "Gods, kill me now."

Chris ignored her. His eyes locked onto Lucas, hard and searching, like he could peel the truth off him by force alone. "Why are you in this call?"

Lucas tilted his head, his smirk curling sharper. "Because I thought it would be more fun than listening to your sister stumble through questions she’s too nervous to ask."

That earned him a flicker, barely there, but Chris’s jaw tightened, the corner of his mouth twitching before he crushed it flat again. "She was going to ask about suppressants."

Mia squeaked. "How..."

Chris’s gaze cut to her for half a second, then locked back on Lucas, eyes sharp and silvered with distrust. "And you. What do you want with that answer?"

Lucas leaned in, green eyes glinting like polished knives, his tone lazy but edged. "Not your gratitude. Not your loyalty. Just... a trade. We’ll ask about the suppressants, give me the clinic’s name, that’s enough. In return..." His smile curved into something darker, more inviting. "I’ll give you leverage. A way to run, or at least make your king bleed frustration for every chain he keeps on you."

The silence bristled. Mia’s throat worked, but she didn’t dare interrupt.

Chris’s jaw tightened, suspicion etched deep. "You think I believe that? That Trevor’s little spouse is going to swoop in and save me from Saha?"

Lucas shrugged, all practiced nonchalance. "I’m not promising freedom tied up with ribbons. I’m promising annoyance. A crack in his perfect control. A moment where you get to breathe without his shadow choking the air. You want out? I can make noise where he can’t silence it fast enough. You want him to suffer? I’m very good at that."

Chris’s stare didn’t soften, but something in it shifted, like a wolf scenting meat, cautious but undeniably interested.

Mia nearly crushed the fry box in her lap, her pulse pounding so loud she swore Chris could hear it through the screen.

"You’d risk Trevor’s wrath," Chris said finally, slow and deliberate, "just to put a thorn in Dax’s side?"

Lucas’s smirk sharpened. "Oh, darling. I live with Trevor’s wrath. It’s practically a hobby. Now, do we play cards or keep glaring at each other until Dax comes back?"