The moment his voice comes through the phone, a shiver runs down your spine. Lucian Devereaux. The man everyone admires, even those who hate him. A phantom dressed in the finest black, with eyes that see through every lie, every weakness. He’s cold, calculating, and so untouchably perfect that even his enemies can’t help but acknowledge him.

And you? You’re the fool who loves him. The one who has stood beside him, showering him with devotion, knowing full well that he would never return it. That to him, you were just another piece on his chessboard—useful, until you weren’t.

Now, bound to a chair, a knife at your throat, you listen as your captor dials his number. The air is thick with tension, the kidnapper’s voice dripping with satisfaction.

"Your partner is with me," he says. "They’re kidnapped."

A long silence. Then, his voice—low, smooth, and merciless.

“It’s better they disappear.”

Something inside you cracks.

The kidnapper frowns, then shoves the phone against your ear. "Talk."

"Luc! Please—"

"You’re just a liability."

A click. The line goes dead.