The Blood Contract
Chapter 74: Reverse

Chapter 74: Reverse

The thought of Lucian and his well-being was the first thing that registered in serena’s mind the moment she woke up the next morning.

She didn’t frown or fight it this time around. Instead, she let it give her the necessary push to complete her morning activities on time so she could go check on him.

Heading outside, her legs took her one step at a time toward his room, but she slowed down for a moment when, from a short distance away, she sighted him and Marlowe standing right in front of his door discussing something.

Marlowe’s expression was grim, her brows drawn together in clear disapproval. Lucian, on the other hand, looked as composed as ever—dressed in a tailored suit, his dark brown hair swept back, every inch the untouchable businessman. But there was something in the way he held himself, a slight tension in his shoulders, that made Serena know something was wrong.

She approached slowly. "Good morning," she greeted, her voice cutting through their hushed exchange as her eyes scanned theirs.

The two of them turned to her. Lucian’s gaze was unreadable, but Marlowe’s frown deepened.

"Is everything alright?" Serena asked, glancing between them.

Lucian answered first, his tone smooth. "Everything’s fine." Then, with a slight tilt of his head, he added, "How’s your chest?"

For a moment, she just stared at him, confused. Then it hit her—last night, he had pulled her abruptly, and she’d stumbled against him, her chest colliding with his solid frame. Heat prickled her cheeks, and she shot him a glare. "It’s fine," she muttered before shifting her attention to Marlowe. "What’s going on? Why are you here? Is something wrong with him?"

Marlowe let out a sigh. "Mr. Draven is supposed to be resting, but he insists on going out for a meeting when he’s not fully recovered yet."

Before Serena could press further, Lucian cut in, his voice firm. "It’s important, Marlowe. I won’t be exerting myself—just thirty minutes of listening, then I’ll be back."

Serena’s mind immediately wandered. If Marlowe says he’s not fully recovered, does that mean what she did in the lab didn’t work? Her stomach twisted. She had been expecting that he would be better this morning. Did Marlowe lie to her?

Her eyes were fixed on Lucian, but her thoughts were miles away, lost in the confusion of the situation.

Marlowe exhaled sharply, clearly frustrated. "Fine. I’ll hold you to your word—thirty minutes, Mr. Draven. You have to be back by then."

Lucian arched a brow. "With travel time, I’ll need an hour and a half, not thirty minutes."

Marlowe looked like she he wanted to argue, but she simply pinched the bridge of her nose and muttered, "One hour and thirty minutes, then. Not a minute more."

Lucian’s gaze slid back to Serena, studying her with unsettling focus. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

His voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She hadn’t even realized she’d been staring. Shaking her head, she turned away without another word, walking off with her mind in complete turmoil.

***

True to his word, the meeting lasted exactly thirty minutes. Lucian sat through it with his usual detached composure, absorbing information without unnecessary input. The moment it ended, he was already in the car, Adrian behind the wheel as they headed back.

The city passed by in a blur—tall buildings, flashing lights, the constant hum of traffic. Lucian barely registered any of it, his mind elsewhere.

Then, halfway home, something caught his eye—a small, unassuming gift shop tucked between two larger stores. It was the kind of place he would’ve never noticed before, but now, for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, he found himself speaking.

"Reverse."

Adrian didn’t question it, smoothly backing up until the car stopped right in front of the shop. Without explanation, Lucian stepped out, Adrian following close behind.

The inside of the shop was a sensory overload—shelves lined with trinkets, stuffed animals, delicate ornaments, and books with colorful covers. The air smelled faintly of vanilla and paper, a stark contrast to the sterile environments Lucian usually occupied.

He had never had a reason to step into a place like this before. But ever since he’d seen the way Serena’s face had lit up when Vincent gave her those gifts—the book, the chocolate, that ridiculous bunny in a case—something had shifted inside him.

It baffled him. The women in his world were thrilled by expensive jewelry, designer labels, or cold, hard cash. But Serena? She had smiled like a child at things he would’ve dismissed as irrelevant.

And he wanted to see that smile again.

Not because of Vincent.

Because of him.

Adrian lingered a few steps behind as Lucian wandered through the shop, his fingers brushing over various items. Then he saw it—a glass case illuminated from within, two white doves frozen in time, their beaks touching as they danced in an eternal rain shower.

For a moment, he just stood there, staring. There was something hypnotic about it—the way the light refracted through the glass, the delicate beauty of the scene. It was sentimental. Unnecessary.

And yet, for the first time in his life, he hesitated.

Then, just as suddenly as he’d been drawn in, he snapped out of it.

"Let’s go," he said abruptly, turning away.

Adrian blinked. "Sir?"

Lucian didn’t answer, already striding toward the exit. Confused but obedient, Adrian followed.

Once they were back in the car, though, Adrian couldn’t hold back. "That gift was beautiful, sir. I’m sure Madam would’ve loved it."

Lucian’s jaw tightened. "She’ll think I’m trying to compete with Vincent."

Adrian hesitated, then shook his head. "I highly doubt that. I don’t think she’s that kind of person, sir."

Lucian didn’t respond, just leaned back in his seat with a sigh. "Drive home, Adrian."

And that was that.

But as the car pulled away, Lucian couldn’t shake the image of those doves—or the unsettling realization that, for the first time in his life, he had no idea what he was doing anymore.