CHAPTER 36: THE VACATION STARTS!

Lucien sat on the balcony, breakfast laid neatly before him: fresh fruits, warm bread with jam, and a cup of steaming coffee.

The ocean breeze brushed against his skin, carrying the scent of salt and sun as he gazed out at the glittering water.

After hearing Ben’s report, he felt calm, almost amused. Vincent had managed to escape and was now under Dominus’s wing.

As expected of Crimson Diablo, he moved fast.

’Right now, that man must be planning how to reach me... how to dig everything out of Vincent,’ Lucien thought, fingers tapping lightly against the armrest.

Vincent knew too much: Lucero’s operations, the flow of their power, the hidden networks, the officers and politicians that kept their hands clean by feeding from the same table.

He had the weapon, yes, but Lucien doubted he had the will or cunning to use it properly.

Mikhail, however... that was another matter.

He rubbed his chin with a faint sigh. ’Seems my vacation won’t last long.’

Lifting the coffee to his lips, he took a slow sip. For now, he would wait. The Basilisk and the capos could handle the ripples while he watched from afar.

They were more experienced in such matters, though none of them understood Dominus as deeply as he did.

"Everything will be fine. Relax for once, Lucien," he muttered, leaning back in the chair.

But peace never came easily. His cheeks warmed slightly as an old memory slipped in: the argument, the anger, the way he’d lost control with Leopard.

"Damn it," he hissed, dragging a hand through his hair.

How ridiculous, acting like a teenager over something buried ten years ago. Damien’s death had been the price of his recklessness, and Lunox’s silence... Well, that was how the mafia world worked.

No friends, no enemies. Only family and agendas.

It was fine to be angry, even disappointed, but to show it? To let it touch him this way?

"Ugh, what the hell."

Lucien groaned, annoyed with himself. Somehow, Edmund always pulled emotions from him that he thought he’d long buried.

There was still something unresolved, something that refused to die no matter how many times he promised himself to let it go.

After all, the opposite of love wasn’t hate, it was indifference.

And if he still hated Edmund...

"No. It’s not like that. I’m not."

He groaned again, trying to push the thought away. But the table in front of him only held food: not the work, not the endless documents that usually kept his mind busy.

And so, with nothing to distract him, his own emotions became the most frustrating thing of all.

Creak.

The balcony door opened, and Lucien turned his head to see the Twinster walking in with wide grins plastered on their faces. The Serpent groaned.

They were either here to have sex or to ruin his peace. Either way, it made no difference.

"What is it now?" he asked flatly, popping a grape into his mouth.

"We just showed up and you’re already frowning?"

Adrian shook his head, settling across from him while Silas followed behind, accompanied by maids carrying several luxurious boxes.

Lucien’s eyes narrowed. "What are those? Don’t tell me Edmund thinks dressing me like a doll isn’t enough, now he wants jewelry too?"

"What do you mean?"

Adrian said with mock offense, grabbing an apple and taking a big bite.

"You look good in those clothes!"

"You must be joking... or you just have terrible taste."

Lucien was wearing simple white trousers and a loose, long-sleeved shirt. It looked modest enough, if not for the open back, tied only by a ribbon bow that barely held it together.

Adrian chuckled as he stood and leaned close, perching himself on the armrest beside Lucien.

His hand slid across the Serpent’s back, tracing a slow path to his chest before his fingers brushed against a sensitive spot.

"You know, it’s easy to take off for a reason," he murmured, lips curling into a grin.

"Edmund said if he could get you into a proper dress, it’d be even better. That way, we wouldn’t have to lift a finger to undress you."

He leaned in closer, voice dropping into a purr. "Though personally, I prefer peeling you open piece by piece."

His tongue flicked against Lucien’s earlobe before he gave it a playful nip, making the omega shiver despite himself.

The Twinster was about five years younger, and though Lucien usually preferred older men, he had to admit, their youthful boldness had its charm.

"You talk big for someone who’s all bark," Lucien said lazily, his tone mocking but laced with amusement.

Adrian arched a brow. "Do you want me to fuck you here then? You perverted Don, does being watched turn you on?"

Lucien laughed, low and rich, but before he could retort, Silas cleared his throat loudly.

"Lucien," he said pointedly, "you should choose one of these first. For safety."

Lucien smiled faintly, sensing the edge in Silas’s tone. The alpha was clearly irritated, probably because their teasing left him out.

Standing, Lucien walked over to the table where the maids had set the boxes down.

When he lifted the lids, his brows rose. Inside, instead of jewelry, were several chokers: each one elegant, expensive, and uniquely designed.

Silas folded his arms and continued, "Edmund said your pheromones—and your attitude—might attract trouble."

"You need one of these. It’ll keep other alphas from trying to mark you. Though, he also said you can keep all of this."

Lucien rubbed his chin, his gaze gliding over the glimmering pieces.

"He does have good taste in jewelry," he murmured, fingers brushing over the one that caught his eye.

It was black, sleek, and soft — the kind of material that wouldn’t leave marks even after hours of wear.

Two smooth straps connected by silver rings and decorated with charms shaped like serpents with tiny amethyst eyes.

Between them hung a fine silver chain, a small star pendant swaying faintly as it caught the light.

"I’ll use this one for now. The rest can go to my room," he said, taking the choker.

Before he could put it on, Silas moved—swift but careful—as if handling something fragile.

"Let me help," he said, fastening it around Lucien’s neck. His touch lingered, precise yet oddly intimate.

The moment the clasp clicked shut, Adrian let out a low whistle. "Damn, look at you. That’s practically begging to be banged!"

Lucien chuckled, his reflection in the glass smirking back at him.

"Well," he said, tilting his head as the charm shimmered against his throat, "it seems this thing only attracts more problems."