Chapter 6 Unveiled Shadows

• Lucien's POV
• A five-year-old file caught my attention. I opened it, hungry and anxious.
• It was a report of a violent confrontation that was never released.
• Leona's name appeared in it, but not as a victim. Not as someone to be exploited.
• She was depicted as a fighter.
• A protector.
• The tale had told me of an evening that her family compound had been mobbed.
• Others fled, but Leona stood her ground, gun in hand, unbending and unafraid.
• The welts on her arms, which I had thought were the product of a simple accident, now made sense.
• She was not fragile, and she endured massacre and betrayal through struggle.
• Hearing it stirred my gut.
• My carefully crafted plan was faltering. Leona was not a pawn for my revenge.
• She was one herself.
• Everything changed.
• I folded back in my chair, my eyes fixed on the ceiling, my cold facade briefly breaking.
• How do you tame a wolf who is already a fighter?
• —
• Leona's POV
• I sat alone in my suite. The silence was stifling, and I did not approve. I had been agitated all day, sensing someone observing me. Then, out of the blue, my phone vibrated, breaking the silence.
• "We need to talk." "You're not as concealed as you believe."
• The number was withheld, but the timing was too precise to be dismissed.
• My hands shook as I re-read the text.
• My heart was racing—not with terror, but with anger.
• For how long had Lucien been probing into my background? What did he need? What bits of my past could he use as leverage against me?
• Thoughts went through my head as I looked out of the window into the city below. The lights shone like stars in the distance—distant, yet too exposed.
• With a newfound determination, a fire kindled within me.
• I would not be anybody's tool or pawn.
• Not now.
• Not ever.
• Later that evening, bundled in a black hooded coat, I stepped out into the frigid Palermo streets. With every step, my resolve grew stronger. The address in the note led me to a quiet corner of the town, where a plain building loomed among cobblestone streets and worn-out shops.
• A figure of shadow pressed a slender folder into my hands.
• I opened it and gasped.
• The file included in-depth documents, photographs, and notes—a full dossier of my existence.
• It had medical reports, screenshots of years past, and even accounts of a buried five-year-old event. That night, I had suffered an attack on the grounds of my family estate. A photograph caught me then—young, fierce, battered, but unbroken.
• Lucien was conscious.
• He had been searching for the truth all along.
• But it felt like a breach—a painful violation of trust.
• I pressed my hand against my breast, fighting against the pain.
• Why was he doing this?
• Was it all to play games with me? To search for means of destroying me?
• Or was there more than met the eye behind his cold, calculating demeanour?
• I thought about the moments I had glimpsed a spark behind Lucien's icy mask—moments when he'd been human.
• But could I trust that?
• Could I trust him?
• Shutting the folder, I took a deep breath and looked in through the window.
• The face that looked back was bolder than any secret within the pages.
• I wasn't a victim.
• I was a fighter.
• And I wouldn't be anyone's pawn.
• Tomorrow, I have to confront him.
• Not as a caged bird.
• But as a woman set on fighting back.
• The morning crept in as I sat at the massive oak desk in my own private study. This was a refuge, where I could think things through without Lucien's chilly gaze upon me.
• The folder from the night before still sat open on the desk, having been displaced by a new goal: reassert control.
• I stroked the worn edge of my family's old ledger, a keepsake that was full of stories of trust and betrayal. My head reeled as I connected the pieces—Lucien's interrogation was not just a threat; it was a challenge.
• I needed friends.
• Not against a ruler who governed through fear and calculation.
• I thought about those who had once been reliable—friends, old friends, even distant relatives who had quietly vanished from my life.
• I took out my phone and began to dial cautiously.
• Then there was Marcella, my childhood friend from long ago.
• Followed by Javier—my father's former bodyguard, a man too seasoned to be intimidated.
• Then there was Elisa—a plotter who understood the city's game of power.
• Each call is brief and urgent.
• They knew what was on the line.
• They would help.
• As I arranged secret encounters in quiet coffeehouses and dimly lit backrooms, a flame of hope burnt in me.
• For the first time in months, I believed I had a fighting chance.
• This wasn't just about outlasting the cage Lucien had set up.
• It was about destroying the walls—and reclaiming my family's honour.
• My eyes in the mirror ignited my passion, feral and resolute.
• The cage still stuck out, but the door started to open creakily.
• I stood poised to fly.