AI Rory nearly dropped the stack of legal files in her arms when she opened the door. Lucien stood there, one hand casually resting on the head of his ivory-handled cane, the other gripping an expensive-looking bottle of wine. His slicked-back platinum hair glinted under the dim hallway light.
Well, well, well. If it isn't the Frenchman himself," Rory drawled, simmering annoyance edging her smoker-roughened voice. "I suppose you forgot the meaning of 'lost cause' too, along with the concept of personal space."
Lucien smiled, all charm and sharp edges. "Now, now Aurora, let's not be crude." His amber and black eyes glittered in a way that made Rory's skin prickle. "It's been too long."
She raised an eyebrow . "Not long enough in my book. What do you want, Lucien? And it better not be what I think it is."
"I'm hurt, truly hurt," he clutched at his suit-clad chest, thick lashes fluttering. "Is this how you greet an old friend?"
"We were never friends," Rory shot back . "I worked for you, which was mistake number one. I knew you couldn't be trusted the moment you started going on about how 'I'd never be bored working for you.'"
Lucien chuckled deep in his throat. "Ah, but you were never bored, were you?"
"I hated every goddamn minute of it," Rory retorted. "Now, I've got work to do, so whatever it is you think we need to discuss, save it."
"Always so direct," Lucien tsked, shaking his head as his gaze travelled over her. Rory resisted the urge to fidget under his scrutiny. "No wonder you struggled to play the game. No matter, I do enjoy a challenge."
"I won't warn you again," Rory's voice was low, dangerous . "Leave. Now."
Lucien's eyes flashed, his easy demeanor cracking for the briefest second. "You're invite-only here, pal. Amazing how quickly you forget that."
Rory made to slam the door, but Lucien's cane shot out, stopping it. "Just hear me out, carino."
"I'm not your darling, don't fucking flatter yourself," Rory snarled, shoving at the door harder. Lucien met her shove with his own strength, the door remaining resolutely open.
"Aurora, I need your help," he said, all teasing gone. Rory paused, blinking in surprise.
"My help?" She echoed incredulously . "You've got to be kidding me."
Lucien's jaw clenched, making the sharp line of it even more pronounced as his heterochromatic eyes met hers dead-on. "I'm afraid not, princess. We've got bigger problems than your wounded pride."
Rory barked out a laugh. "My pride has nothing to do with it. You are a grade-A, certified wanker, Lucien Moreau. You used me, lied to me —"
He cut her off. "I saved your damn life, Carter," he growled.
Heat rushed to Rory's face. "And I saved yours!"
"A compelling point," Lucien conceded. Rory blinked, nonplussed. Lucien never gave an inch, never mind a bloody mile.
After a fraught silence , Rory sighed heavily. "Fine. Come in, you manipulative bastard."
Lucien smirked as he shouldered past her, bringing with him the scent of crisp cologne and smoky spice. Rory shut the door, taking a deep breath to steel herself.
Lucien eyed the strewn books and papers over the bottle of wine. "Making yourself at home, I see."
"Fuck off," Rory retorted, rounding on him eyes blazing. "Say what you came to say so I can get back to my life."
Lucien met her fiery gaze, his own amber eye flecked with gold. "Right, then," he took a breath, "I have a contract out on me."
"Color me shocked," Rory deadpanned. "What's new, pussycat?"
Lucien stared at her flatly. "I'm serious, Aurora."
Rory let out an explosive sigh. "So am I," she said. "That's what you get for being a lying, conniving lowlife who screws everyone over."
Lucien ignored the insult, pressing on. "The contract is lethal. I have two days, maybe three before they come for me."
A chill shot up Rory's spine. "What are you asking me to do, Lucien?"
Lucien's gaze held hers, unflinching. "I need you to kill me," he said bluntly.
Rory's stomach lurched . "Are you out of your goddamn mind?" she burst out, throwing up her hands.
"I assure you; it's the only way." Lucien replied, smiling grimly. "Poison, if you would. Quick, relatively painless. I'll need a head start to put my affairs in order."
"I can't — No, absolutely not," Rory shook her head vehemently. "No. No fucking way."
Lucien reached out, grip tightening on his cane. "Goddamn it, Rory!" His voice cracked with the first hint of desperation. "You're the only one I trust to do this."
"Trust?" Rory scoffed, voice breaking . "You don't know the meaning of the word, you lying, manipulative son of a bitch," she shoved his chest, forcing him back toward the door. "I would rather watch you rot than help you out of this mess you made yourself."
Lucien's eyes flashed dangerously. Rory felt the shift in the air, the change in him. "You will do as I ask, little one," he said, voice dripping with dark promise . "One way or another."
Her heart seized in her chest. She saw it then — the demon in him rising to the surface, eyes burning until they glowed magma-red. He took a menacing step towards her —
Rory slapped him hard across the face, the sound echoing sharp between them. Lucien froze, his eyes snapping back to their natural state,WA shock widening them.
"I'm not your puppet anymore, Lucien," Rory said, quiet and trembling. "I'm not yours to control, charm , or manipulate. You know what you're asking is wrong."
Lucien stood panting in the wake of her words. The red mark from her hand stood out brutally on his cheek. He opened his mouth, then closed it, seeming to collapse in on himself.
"Please, Rory," he whispered finally, barely audible . "I have nothing left."
Rory glared at him through burning eyes, a war waging in her chest. The seconds stretched agonizingly.
"Fine," she spat, relighting a cigarette . "On one condition."
Lucien looked at her, eyes wide and shining. "Anything."
"You never contact me again," her voice wavered . "After this, you're dead to me. You disappear, and I mean it this time."
Lucien swallowed hard but nodded. "Deal."
Rory let out a shaking breath, reaching for her coat. "Let's get this over with."