The Blood Contract
Chapter 84: Don’t ask me questions

Chapter 84: Don’t ask me questions

The car rolled to a smooth stop, the low hum of the engine dying out as Serena pushed the door open and stepped out.

Her eyes swept over the building before her—once a proud structure with clean lines and a polished finish, now bearing deep scars. Glass panels were shattered, jagged edges like broken teeth catching the morning light. Chunks of stone and debris littered the path to the entrance, while scorch marks smeared across the walls like dark fingerprints left by violence.

Her brows furrowed as the full scale of destruction registered in her mind.

Before she could filter the thought, the question escaped her lips. "What happened here?"

Adrian, who had exited the car after her and now stood quietly by her side, looked around the place as well. "I wonder," he replied with a casual shrug, feigning ignorance with the ease of a well-trained liar. His expression gave nothing away.

The large glass doors opened with a groan as they stepped inside, the sharp scent of cleaning chemicals hanging in the air. A young assistant stood waiting for them, clearly prepped and stationed with the precision only fear or obedience could instill.

"Welcome to the council. Please come with me," he said to them, leading them to the waiting room. "Mr. Modi will be with you soon," the assistant said with a polite nod. "Please make yourselves comfortable."

Serena didn’t bother with the comfortable-looking chairs that filled the modern waiting room, each one neatly arranged like props in a showroom. Instead, she remained standing, arms loosely at her sides, her fingers tapping against the thighs of her pajamas in a restless rhythm. Her eyes didn’t rest on any one spot for long, scanning every corner, every shadow, expecting someone to arrive already.

Adrian and Darrell remained close, but one could sense the tension in them too—controlled, but there.

It took about two minutes—though it felt like an eternity—for the door at the far end of the room to swing open. A man entered, tall and imposing, dressed in a sharply cut suit that couldn’t quite hide the broadness of his shoulders. His face was stern, almost regal, but the most striking thing about him was the eyepatch that sat over his right eye, and the long scar on his face, giving him the air of someone who had seen battle and survived it.

Behind him came another figure.

Salvador.

Adrian and Darrell, who stood slightly behind Serena, wondered why he was there. They had sent for Modi, not him.

Modi approached first, a practiced professional smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Despite the friendly expression, his body language was calculated, almost rehearsed.

"Good morning, Mrs. Draven," he greeted smoothly. "Fancy having you here today."

Serena’s expression didn’t shift. "I wish I could say the same, Mr..." She trailed off deliberately, turning slightly to glance at Adrian. "What’s his name again?"

"Modi," Adrian supplied without missing a beat.

"Mr. Modi," Serena repeated, her tone clipped.

But Salvador had a different reaction. He stood beside Modi, his eyes locked on Serena with a look that unsettled her. There was something wild in his gaze, not dangerous—but starved. Like a man who had been searching for water and had stumbled into an oasis he thought he’d only dreamt of.

"Leah," he whispered, his voice barely audible, but it rang through the room like a shot.

Serena blinked. "Say what now?"

She turned fully to him, confusion written all over her face. Did he just call her Leah?

Modi stepped in quickly, his voice smooth but firm. "Never mind my superior’s words. He’s been through a lot of stress lately."

Right. Stress. Serena narrowed her eyes but didn’t press the matter.

"To what do I owe this sudden visit?" Modi asked, shifting the topic swiftly. His eyes flicked to Adrian and Darrell briefly before returning to Serena, studying her closely.

She didn’t waste time. "You guys gave me some awful-tasting liquid on the day of the joining that weakened me to the core," she said, her voice steady but urgent. "I need that liquid. Right now. As in—this moment."

Modi’s pleasant expression faltered slightly. The seriousness in her tone, matched by the grim faces of Adrian and Darrell behind her, turned the air cold and tense.

"What do you need it for?" he asked, frowning.

But Serena snapped. "Don’t ask me questions. I don’t have time for that." Her voice cracked like a whip, sharp with urgency and frustration. "Lucian is dying, and every second you waste asking me questions could be his last. So hurry—unless you want him dead. And this contract," she paused, her eyes locking with his, "terminated."

That did it.

Salvador’s earlier expression of awe vanished like smoke. His jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring as Serena’s words sank in. All this, all this effort, all this racing against time... for him? To think she had only come for the dying bastard. He wanted to punch something, anything. If she had already been pregnant, he would have transferred her memories back to her so she could see for herself that Lucian wasn’t worth the sacrifice. So she would let him die.

"I don’t think we have any left," Modi said after a pause. "And it takes about an hour to prepare one."

The words dropped like bricks.

Serena couldn’t believe her ears. An hour? She didn’t have an hour. She didn’t even have ten minutes. She wasn’t sure how much time Lucian had left, and she didn’t want to imagine that anything had happened to him already. The thought turned her blood to ice.

Modi noticed the fury building in her and he lifted a hand. "Let me confirm first," he said, pulling out his phone and dialing with swift fingers.

The room was silent except for the faint sound of his voice on the call. Everyone watched him. Serena’s heart beat against her ribs like a war drum. She clenched and unclenched her fists to keep her composure.

When Modi ended the call and turned back to them, his face was more relaxed. "We have some reserve," he said. "It’s being brought here as we speak."

A breath Serena hadn’t realized she’d been holding escaped her lips, her shoulders dropping slightly in relief.

"May I know what’s wrong with Lucian?" Modi asked, unable to keep the curiosity from his voice.

"I said don’t ask me questions," Serena retorted coldly, her arms folding across her chest. "I didn’t come here for that."

"I’m asking so we can know if there’s any other way to help," Modi said, his voice still composed. "Besides, it’s important we know about his well-being. He is an asset to the council, after all."

"If you want to know about his well-being, come to the house and find out," Serena snapped. "I didn’t come here to discuss his health. Just give me what I need so I can be out of your nose."

The words were like fire in the room, and both Modi and Salvador nearly laughed. Serena had no idea just how much she and Lucian mirrored each other. It was almost poetic. The last time, it had been Lucian telling them to come back another day if they wanted to see her. Now here she was, telling them to come to the house if they wanted to know about his well-being.

Even the same bodyguards from that night were present. The symmetry was uncanny.

The door opened again, and a woman in a lab coat stepped into the room. Her expression was unreadable, her movements precise as she carried a tray with gloved hands. On it sat a single ornate chalice, its surface gleaming under the lights. The liquid inside was a deep, ominous red.

Serena didn’t wait. She moved forward, her strides purposeful. The woman barely had time to lift the tray fully before Serena reached out and took the chalice.

Without hesitation, without second-guessing, she lifted it to her lips and drank. The taste was as vile as she remembered—metallic, bitter, ancient—but she didn’t care.

The effect was immediate.

The air thickened around her, colder, crackling with unseen energy. The room shimmered at the edges of her vision, as though time itself warped briefly. That strange force that had once nearly crippled her now surged inside her veins again, but this time... she expected it. She welcomed it.

Her knees threatened to buckle under the weight of the power, but she planted her feet firmly and stood tall, forcing her body to adapt. She closed her eyes briefly, allowing the sensation to settle, to root itself. Her breathing evened. The chaos inside began to calm.

She opened her eyes, steady and clear once more, and turned to face Modi and Salvador.

"Thank you for your cooperation," she said simply. Then she turned to Adrian and Darrell. "Let’s go."

No one said a word as she walked out the door, her men flanking her like shadows.

They had what they came for.

And Lucian had better be alive when she returned.

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