“Oh, you absolutely did,” she said brightly. “But you did it with style. And I can appreciate that. Although, I’m not sure you understand what you’re getting yourself into with that bar, but it’ll be fun for the rest of us to watch.”
“What do you mean? What am I getting myself into?” I questioned.
Thorne slowed her pace just slightly, eyes flicking to a building across the square like she was checking for eavesdroppers. “Let’s just say…the property you bought isn’t exactly unclaimed territory.”
I frowned. “Claude said it was abandoned.”
“Oh, it is. But abandoned doesn’t mean forgotten. Especially not when it sits just two blocks from The Crimson Veil.”
I blinked. “The what?”
“The Crimson Veil. It’s the most exclusive lounge in town. Think velvet ropes, enchanted cocktails, and power plays disguised as polite conversation. It’s owned by none other than Lucien St. Germain.”
Ah. A name I recognized.
Thorne nodded, catching my expression. “So, you’ve heard of him.”
“Of the family,” I clarified. “Claude gave me the rundown of the legacy families in town. Basically, he said the St. Germains are wannabe vampiric royalty with control issues.”
“That’s the polite version.” Thorne smirked. “Lucien’s the heir—the one they all watch, fear, or desperately want to impress. The whole town practically bows when he walks by.”
“And my buying a rundown bar near his palace of influence is…a problem?”
“For you? Definitely,” she said brightly. “The second you signed those papers, you lit a spark. And in Eternity Falls, sparks don’t go unnoticed. Lucien doesn’t like surprises, nor competition, so he’s going to notice you.”
“Hmm,” I murmured, not with dread, but interest. “Egotistical power plays. Delightful.” This sounded like my kind of battlefield. I didn’t do fists or fangs, but I certainly engaged in carefully chosen words and razor-edged smiles. The slow circling of predators in tailored suits.
Thorne arched a brow when I offered a small smile. “That’s…not the reaction most people have.”
“Most people weren’t raised at Laurent dinner tables,” I replied. “We played politics between courses.”
She snorted. “Look, you’ve clearly had a rough go of things lately. So, I’m just gonna be straight with you. Lucien’s not just some overdressed lounge owner with daddy’s money. He treats this town like a chessboard, and everyone on it like pieces—except him. He’s the player. Always.”
My grin grew. “Charming.”
“Oh, he’s charming, all right,” she said, voice dry. “And that’s the danger. He’s polished and terrifyingly good at pretending he’s not dangerous—right up until someone crosses him. Then the silk gloves come off and the sociopath comes out to play.”
When I didn’t immediately respond, she continued, “No one openly challenges a St. Germain without bleeding for it. Their family owns half the town, and the other half owes them something. Lucien’s the kind of man who can ruin you without ever raising his voice. He’ll smile, toast your ambition, and make sure the council denies your permits, your vendors disappear, and your pipes mysteriously burst the night before your grand opening.”
“Sounds like my kind of fun,” I said.
Thorne stared. “Did you miss the part where I said he’ll try to destroy you?”
“Oh, I caught it,” I said. “Permits revoked. Supplies vanish. Pipes burst. Very clean. Very civilized. He’s brutal.”
Thorne weighed my words. “He won’t murder you or anything. He’ll just make you wish you were dead.”
I tilted my head slightly, letting her words settle—and then smiled.
Thorne blinked. “You’re terrifying. Has anyone ever told you that before?”
“Mm-hmm. They definitely have. And for good reason.” I glanced around at the quiet streets and the quaint buildings, all while the gentle pulse of magic hummed under my feet. It didn’t look like the kind of place built on silent wars and social sabotage. But I’d grown up around power. I knew pretty façades were often just that.
“Okay, it’s just you’re smiling, and it’s kind of creepy,” Thorne said.
I chuckled. “Forgive me, but you’re not a vampire. This is exactly the sort of game we thrive on. Politics. Power plays. Predators in pearls.” I tilted my head, then caught her gaze and held it. “If Lucien wants to play, I say let him. Sounds like he’s overdue for someone to knock the smug out of his fangs. And I’m happy to oblige.”
Thorne opened her mouth, closed it, then chuckled. “Okay. That was either the most badass or most unhinged thing I’ve heard all week.”
