The Monster's Shadow

Lara sat at one of the guest tables, a glass of wine poised delicately in her hand. She had been chatting with a woman, not much older than herself, and their laughter had been light and frequent—until Sir Gastrus appeared.

"Oh… I guess I should be going now," the woman said with a warm smile towards Lara, then nodded briefly at Gastrus before strolling off.

For a moment, silence settled between them as both watched the woman join another group at the center of the hall.

"Wow! Such a lively party!" Lara finally said, her bright hazel eyes scanning the golden chandeliers and elegantly dressed guests.

"I tell you," Gastrus muttered, "what I don't understand is why this party is happening at all. There's nothing to celebrate."

"Sir Gastrus, you're here!" Lara turned to him with feigned surprise. "Why don't you join me—take a seat."

"Why, I can't sit with a murderer like you," Gastrus scoffed.

Lara stiffened, her gaze darting to nearby guests to see if anyone had overheard. Then, forcing a composed smile, she grabbed Gastrus by the arm and pulled him aside, away from curious eyes.

"What is all this, Gastrus?" she demanded, her voice low and sharp.

"All this?" he repeated bitterly. "It's about that thing you're parading as the new CEO of Dion Biotics."

Lara turned her face slightly, giving no verbal reply — only a faint, unreadable expression.

"You scheming witch!" Gastrus hissed. "Killing my cousin wasn't enough — you had to bring a bastard child in his name?"

"Enough, Gastrus!" Lara's whisper was venomous. "You will not speak another word about Lucien. If you despise him so much, stay away. After all…" Her lips curled into a cold smile. "The prey should always fear the approaching predator."

"This façade of yours changes nothing. You killed Mikel." Gastrus spun on his heel to leave — only to freeze. 

Lucien stood before him, silent, his smirk glacial. 

"Mr. Lucien… Dion!" Gastrus forced an uneasy smile. "The future of Dion rests in your hands now." He extended his hand, the gesture hollow. "And don't forget— our deal renewal is pending."

"That is, if I don't buy your company by month's end," Lucien replied, his voice a whisper laced with frost. 

"Pardon? What did you say?" Gastrus withdrew his ignored hand, his grin faltering. 

"I hate to repeat myself." Lucien muttered, adjusting his black necktie. His eyes shifted to Lara.

"No qualms, sir," Gastrus murmured, his voice barely steady as he backed away and disappeared into the crowd, leaving mother and son alone.

"Laa-ra," Lucien hummed mockingly, reaching for the wine glass she had left on the table.

"What was that about, exactly?" he asked, lifting the glass close to his lips but not drinking, pausing as if savoring the scent.

Lara stared at him. Had he been drinking already? The way he handled the glass unnerved her.

"It's nothing you should worry about, son," she said, forcing a composed smile.

"Son?" Lucien echoed, the sarcasm in his voice thick.

"Your speech was great," Lara said quickly, trying to change the subject.

"Says who?" he scoffed, watching her falter.

He's tired… that's all, she told herself. Don't blow this up, Lara.

"Remember what you used to say?" Lucien continued. "A speech only becomes great when it's content is put into action."

Lara sighed. He had caught her off guard with her own words.

"Oh, that's right," she said, recovering. "But also remember — only people of action make great speeches. And you, Lucien… you were born for it."

"Wow! I just learned that now," he replied, tightening his grip around the glass.

"So… tell me, how's the party?" Lara asked, her eyes drifting toward the dance floor.

"Why pretend you care?" Lucien snapped. "You never did. Not years ago."

Then — crack.

The sound was unmistakable. The wine glass shattered in Lucien's hand.

Lara gasped, eyes widening in horror as she saw blood running down his palm. Shards of glass pierced his skin, gleaming like cruel little thorns.

"Lucien!" 

But he had already turned and walked away.

"Oh my!" Lara exclaimed as Lucien walked away 

***

The moment he stepped into the hallway, the lights hit his face — flashing, clicking — a barrage of paparazzi. The hall that once felt like a cage now burst with noise and attention.

Guards rushed in from every corner, shielding him from questions and blinding cameras.

"Lucien! Over here!"

"Is it true you're taking over Dion Biotics permanently?"

"What happened to your hand, sir?"

Lucien didn't say a word. His bleeding hand was visible, but he didn't care. Let them talk. Let the photos spread. He kept walking.

At the MD garage, he raised one hand and signaled the guards to stay back.

Finally, he was alone.

---

Lucien (POV)

Finally, I was in my car — away from everyone. Free to think. Free to breathe.

I turned the ignition, pulled out of the premises, and hit the road. My hand burned—those damn glass shards were still lodged in my skin—but I didn't care. The pain was grounding. I welcomed it.

I didn't even know where I was going. I just needed distance. Distance from Lara.

My grip tightened on the wheel, and the sharp sting from the glass brought me back to the present. I was speeding. The faster I went, the easier it was to think. Or not think.

Then I saw her.

A girl crossing the road. Head down. Oblivious.

Does she not see the damn car?

I slammed the brakes. The car screeched to a stop, just inches away. She turned just in time—not with fear, but rage.

She pounded on the hood of my car with both fists.

"Are you blind?! Can't you see this is a road, not a racetrack?!"

I rolled down the window but didn't step out. Not with blood all over my hands.

"Young lady," I snapped, "next time you cross a road, try growing eyes on your back."

"What's that supposed to mean? Are you saying I'm blind? Have you ever seen a human with eyes at the back of their head?!"

She was wild — furious — and I didn't have the patience for it.

"You know what? I don't have time for scumbergs like you," I muttered, easing off the brake.

She stepped in front of the car again.

"You nearly killed me, and you want to drive off like nothing happened?! Who the hell do you think you are?!"

She slammed her palms against the hood again. I swear, if the car had feelings, it would've burst into tears.

I stepped out.

"If you damage this car, you'll be paying for it with your life!" I growled, too angry to filter myself.

It wasn't until I saw her eyes flicker to the blood on my hand that she froze. Her rage drained into silence. For a moment, I thought she might cry.

I didn't wait.

I got back in, shut the door, and drove off.

And strangely… I felt better.