CHAPTER 290: CHAPTER 290: CHIEF OF GOSSIP

The drive back from the imperial palace was long enough for Lucas to fold himself back into silence, letting the rhythm of tires against asphalt dull the edges of strategy still ringing in his mind. Fitzgeralt manor loomed familiar by the time the car pulled into the courtyard, its glass façade washed in the soft glow of evening.

Inside, the quiet was broken only by the muffled tick of the grandfather clock in the hall. Mia was waiting for him.

She stood at the edge of the lounge, arms crossed, shoulders drawn tight. The expression on her face was a mix between hurt and wary, as though she had rehearsed this moment the entire ride back.

"You used us," she said flatly. No preamble, no hesitation. "You used me and Andrew to give the imperial family and your houses more power."

Lucas paused just inside the doorway, undoing the buttons of his jacket with unhurried calm. His green eyes met hers, steady, unreadable. "Is that what you think?"

Mia’s hands tightened against her arms. "What else am I supposed to think? You sat there like everything was already decided. Andrew being heir, me being absorbed into a family I don’t even know. And you..." her voice cracked, but she forced it steady, "you didn’t even ask us. You made us pawns on their board. I thought we were friends."

Lucas’s lips curved faintly, though there was no amusement in it. "Mia, pawns are sacrificed. I don’t play games where my pieces are discarded." He took his blazer off and placed it on the back of the chair near him. "And yes, we are friends. Mia, this is the only reason that made me want to help your family. Because I like you as my friend."

Mia’s chin lifted, her voice tight. "Then why does it feel like you handed us over? Like we’re leverage instead of people?"

Lucas tilted his head, considering her words as he unfastened his cufflinks one by one, placing them neatly on the table. "Because leverage is what the Maleks turned you into the moment they cut you loose. All I did was move you to a position where no one can touch you without losing a hand."

"That doesn’t make it right," Mia shot back, her arms tightening around herself. "You can stand there and talk about strategies and shields, but it’s still our lives. Andrew didn’t ask to be heir to people who don’t even know his name. I didn’t ask to be tied to them either."

Lucas leaned against the back of the chair, green eyes sharp but not unkind. "You’re right. You didn’t ask. And neither did Andrew. But tell me, didn’t Andrew want more? Didn’t you feel that his skills and mind are wasted in his job?"

Mia looked at him, really looked for the first time he met him. Lucas looked young, fragile, and innocent, with his ash blonde hair, lean frame, and elegant features, but underneath was someone way more capable than she thought he would be. "How did you know?"

Lucas’s smile was faint, almost careless, but his eyes didn’t waver. "Because I watched him. Andrew hides it well, better than most, but you don’t spend years studying numbers and systems just to clock out at five and forget about them. He sees patterns. He fixes things in his head before anyone else notices they’re broken. That kind of mind doesn’t stay quiet forever."

Mia’s throat tightened. She hadn’t expected the words to sting, but they did, because they were true. She had seen the restlessness in Andrew, the way he sometimes lingered over files or muttered about solutions no one had asked for. She had dismissed it as habit, as Andrew being Andrew. Lucas had seen it for what it was.

She swallowed. "And you thought making him heir would fix that? That it would make him... happy?"

Lucas tilted his head, a sliver of amusement flickering at the corner of his mouth. "Happy? No. Useful. Fulfilled, maybe. The Blacks don’t hand out power for free, Mia. They’ll give Andrew a name that shields you both, but they’ll expect him to earn it. And he will. Because deep down, you know as well as I do, he wants the challenge."

Mia’s voice dropped, barely above a whisper. "You make it sound like you know him better than I do."

Lucas leaned forward slightly, his tone calm, almost gentle. "I don’t. I just pay attention."

Mia’s arms tightened further around herself, her breath uneven. "You talk about us like puzzle pieces. Like you already know where we fit before we’ve even tried."

Lucas’s smile didn’t shift, but his eyes softened by a fraction. "That’s because someone else was already trying to place you, and they didn’t care if the piece broke to make it fit. At least this way, you’re not forced into a corner you can’t get out of."

Her lips parted, but she couldn’t bring herself to argue. The conviction in his voice unsettled her; it was too certain, too steady for someone who looked so breakable.

"You’re terrifying, Lucas," she whispered, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

He leaned back again, that faint curve still at his mouth, ash-blonde hair falling into his eyes. "Good. That means I’m doing something right."

Mia scoffed and turned toward the tall windows of the manor, the glass reflecting her frown. "Do I get to keep my title of Chief of Gossip or not?"

Lucas hummed, unbothered. "Only for the right amount of fast food. You get a promotion if you bring fries."

That startled a laugh out of her, small and sharp, but it softened the line of her shoulders. "So all it takes to climb your hierarchy is greasy food? Good to know you can be bribed."

Lucas’s lips quirked as he reached for his discarded blazer. "Not bribed. Properly compensated."

Mia rolled her eyes but didn’t push further. The sting of her earlier accusations lingered between them, but the edge had dulled, replaced by the fragile familiarity of old banter, proof that even in the middle of strategy and shields, some part of their friendship could still be maintained.