Page 79 of Knot Heirs: Serenity's Reign

"Both," all three alphas answered in unison, then exchanged irritated glances.

Lucian gestured toward the first set of doors. "My wing. Perhaps you'd care to see it first?"

He wants to establish dominance by showcasing his territory first,Serenity realized.Classic alpha posturing.

"Fine." She stepped forward, refusing to be intimidated. "Show me your lair, Blackthorn."

Lucian pushed open the double doors, and Serenity found herself stepping into a space that felt like walking into the man's mind made physical.

The first impression was one of meticulous precision. Gleaming hardwood floors stretched beneath her heels, the rich mahogany so perfectly maintained she could almost see her reflection. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined three walls, each volume precisely aligned, organized by what appeared to be both subject and color in a system that somehow managed to be both obsessively orderly and aesthetically pleasing.

"Impressed?" Lucian asked, watching her reaction closely.

"It's very... you." Serenity ran a finger along the spine of a first-edition finance text worth more than most people's cars. "Do you actually read these, or are they just props for your billionaire aesthetic?"

Instead of taking offense, Lucian's lips curved into a genuine smile. "Page 394 of that particular volume contains a fascinating thesis on leveraged derivatives that informed my first billion." He stepped closer, his scent—sandalwood, amber, and something darker—enveloping her. "I've read every book in this room, Ms. Vale. Some multiple times."

"Photographic memory," she recalled from the dossier she'd compiled on him before their first meeting.

"Indeed." His eyes glinted with pleasure at her knowledge. "A useful trait in both legitimate business and... alternative ventures."

Serenity moved deeper into the space, conscious of how Lucian shadowed her movements with predatory grace. The furniture was sleek and modern—all clean lines and sharp angles softened by occasional curves, much like the man himself. A glass desk stood centered before floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a panoramic view of the estate's grounds, positioned so that Lucian could see anyone approaching while remaining partially obscured himself.

Strategic, even in his decorating choices.

"You don't display personal items," she observed, noting the absence of photographs or mementos. "Nothing that could reveal vulnerabilities."

Lucian's expression revealed nothing. "What makes you think I have any?"

"Everyone does." She turned to face him. "Even you, Blackthorn."

Something flickered across his features—so quick she might have missed it if she hadn't been watching for exactly such aslip. He recovered immediately, but the momentary crack in his perfect facade told her more than hours of conversation might have.

There's something damaged beneath all that polish.

"Your analysis is impressive," he murmured, stepping closer until barely a foot separated them. "Most people see only what I intend them to see."

Serenity held her ground despite her omega biology responding to his proximity. "I'm not most people."

"No," he agreed, his voice dropping an octave. "You certainly are not."

The air between them seemed to crackle with tension—part challenge, part something far more primitive. Serenity forced herself to break eye contact first, turning to examine a chess set on a side table. The pieces were arranged mid-game, a complex strategy unfolding.

"You play against yourself?" she asked, recognizing the configuration as no standard opening.

"Sometimes the most worthy opponent is oneself." Lucian moved to stand beside her, his finger hovering over a black knight. "Do you play, Ms. Vale?"

"My father insisted." She studied the board, immediately recognizing his strategy. "You're three moves from checkmate."

Surprise flickered across his face—genuine this time. "Most people don't see it."

"Most people aren't paying attention." She picked up the white queen, testing its weight in her palm. "Tell me, Lucian, do you always sacrifice your pawns so readily?"

His eyes darkened. "In chess, as in life, calculated sacrifices are sometimes necessary for the greater strategy."

"And who decides what's necessary?" She replaced the queen, deliberately positioning it differently. "Now you're five moves from losing."

He studied the board, and a slow smile spread across his face. "Fascinating."

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