And I couldn’t seem to get a grip on this situation. Not only did I keep pissing her off, but I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Gods, the way she smelled, the way she looked… Even the way she stood up to me. I truly did want to solve this situation amicably, for both parties. It was why I’d offered to buy the bar in the first place.
But I’d failed.
I never failed, and I certainly never lost control.
Until her.
Eternity Falls functioned on unspoken rules established and reinforced over the generations. The Crimson Veil wasn’t merely a lounge—it was the beating heart of the hierarchy. People felt seen and important when I allowed them through my doors. They came here in search of power and to align themselves with the strongest names in town.
And soon, there would be a competing heartbeat.
Two blocks away, Isadora’s bar sat dormant—for now. But with Thorne’s aid, it wouldn’t be long before they reopened the doors. They would breathe life back into the building—of that I had no doubt. I saw the spark in Isadora. And that spark would undoubtedly spread to her new business. It would draw attention. Customers who groveled to get through my doors would start rethinking their options. And once they did…
Well, power bled easily in this town. And it would shift to her.
I’d tried to handle it. Thought I could buy her out, end it cleanly, without needing to make a mess of her. It would’ve worked on anyone else.
But she wasn’t just anyone.
She didn’t want survival. She wanted ownership and control. Not the illusion of it, but the real thing. I understood that. Intimately.
And I… I didn’t want to be the one who stripped it from her.
There had to be another way.
I had tried to play this differently, but in doing so, I’d exposed my flank, and she’d drawn blood. Now the town would talk. They would whisper about the St. Germain heir offering a buyout—and Isadora’s refusal. They would laugh when they discussed how Miss Laurent walked out with her chin held high while I sat at the table, too surprised to retaliate.
By now, my mother and father would know. Not from Juliette or Evangeline—our sibling loyalty ran much deeper than that—but from the dozens of mouths who’d witnessed it firsthand and wouldn’t waste a breath keeping it quiet.
I couldn’t let that happen again.
There was still time to correct the course. To reclaim the narrative before it spun out of my control.
I just needed a new plan.
Before I could figure out what exactly that would entail, two soft knocks echoed at the door.
“Enter,” I called.
The door opened, and Juliette stepped inside. She shut the door behind her and marched toward me, her posture tense. Readying herself for a fight, I supposed.
“You offered her a buyout,” she said at last.
I didn’t answer immediately. Just swirled the blood in my glass and watched the way it caught the light.
“Why?” she demanded when I didn’t speak.
“I’ve made offers before.”
“Oh, really? When was the last time?” Juliette challenged. “I’ve been working at your side for years. I’ve never seen you offer to buy someone out. Why bother, when you can destroy them and keep the money?”
“Perhaps I’m evolving.”
“I don’t buy it,” she said immediately. “This isn’t like you. What’s going on, Lucien?”
My silence said more than I intended.
It would’ve been easier if Isadora was the spoiled heiress I’d expected. But she wasn’t. In fact, she was the furthest thing from that. She’d walked into this town, bruised by scandal, but still held her head high. I admired her for that.
