CHAPTER 398: CHAPTER 398: DINNER WITH AUDIENCE

Lucas tilted his head, gaze narrowing slightly. "You’re rarely short on courage, Trevor. Which means whatever this is, I’m not going to like it."

Trevor gave a humorless smile. "You’re developing an unfortunate habit of being right."

Before Lucas could press further, the door slid open with a soft chime. Windstone entered silently, as though he’d been waiting for a cue only he could hear. He carried the first course on a polished silver tray: grilled prawns in saffron butter, a touch of citrus, and a side of warm bread.

The scent filled the air instantly, delicate and disarming, grounding the tension just enough for Trevor to catch his breath.

"Thank you, Windstone," Trevor said, his tone measured.

Lucas took the plate with quiet gratitude, not because he was hungry, but because it gave him something to focus on that wasn’t the pulse of dread in Trevor’s voice.

The butler inclined his head. "Would you like the next course prepared immediately, my lord?"

Trevor glanced at Lucas. "In ten minutes," Trevor replied calmly. "We’ll take our time."

"Very good, my lord." Windstone bowed slightly, retreating as quietly as he came.

For a few minutes, they ate in silence. The soft hum of the rain against the tall windows blended with the muted sound of silver against porcelain. When Trevor finally spoke, it was with that low steadiness that always preceded bad news.

"Benedict is in the city."

Lucas’s fork paused for a breath, then continued its slow path to the plate. "You’re sure?"

Trevor nodded once, eyes fixed on the wine he wasn’t really tasting. "My team traced encrypted transfers through diplomatic accounts, the same pattern as before. Serathine’s network confirmed movement in the eastern quarter. He’s been rotating between private clinics and high-end residences. Classic Benedict. Just enough noise to be invisible."

Lucas set his fork down carefully. "And you waited until dinner to tell me because..."

"Because," Trevor said, leaning back slightly, "you would’ve spent the afternoon planning counter-operations and skipping lunch."

That earned a faint huff of laughter. "You say that like it’s inaccurate."

"It’s accurate," Trevor said dryly. "Painfully so."

Lucas smiled a little, that small, knowing curve that softened the entire conversation. "You’re predictable, Trevor. But so am I. You knew I wouldn’t sit still once I knew."

Trevor’s gaze flicked up, the smallest spark of gratitude there. "I knew you’d understand why I needed a few hours first. I had to confirm what we were dealing with."

"And what are we dealing with?" Lucas asked, his voice steady now.

Trevor reached into his jacket and pulled out his phone, setting it between them. The screen blinked to life, a glass vial, silver liquid shifting like mercury. Compound 47 – Trial Batch E.

Lucas’s expression changed, quiet recognition sweeping over him. "Vivienne’s work."

Trevor nodded. "Benedict’s been using it. Modifying it. We confirmed traces of her molecular tags in the samples Count Velloran brought in."

"But how is that possible?" Lucas took a sip of his water. "She was experimenting to develop false dominants omegas or she was controlled like Velloran?"

Trevor’s eyes lifted to him, a faint shadow passing through his expression. "Neither," he said after a pause. "Vivienne wasn’t controlled... at least, not in the way Velloran was. She was convinced. Benedict didn’t need to manipulate her pheromones; he fed her ego."

Lucas leaned slightly forward, elbows resting on the table, the subtle light from the hologram painting his skin in silvers and pale golds. "Convinced her of what?"

"That she was on the verge of rewriting evolution," Trevor said quietly. "You remember her, how obsessed she was with dominance thresholds. She used to say scent was the truest language of power, and that nature made it too limited." He paused to stab an innocent shrimp. "Also, you said she was my wife in the past life."

"Yes, that was said in the media; she died very young." Lucas said while putting his cutlery away, his plate empty.

Trevor looked up from his plate, caught off guard by the calm precision in Lucas’s tone.

"You sound remarkably casual for someone mentioning my former fiancée."

Lucas didn’t flinch, only leaned back in his chair with quiet composure. "You mean the woman you destroyed for trying to touch me? Plus, it was your wife in my past life so I’ve been thinking."

"That is never a good sign." Said Windstone, entering with the main course with a mildly curious expression, which in his books meant he was dying to know the subject.

"Thank you, Windstone." Lucas said, huffing. "Why don’t you dine with us before you strain your neck listening to us?"

Windstone paused mid-step, with the faintest flicker of hesitation, though his composure never faltered. "Tempting, Your Grace," he said dryly, setting the dishes down. "But I imagine the conversation would spoil my appetite long before the food cooled."

Lucas’s lips curved. "You’d survive. You’ve eaten through worse, like Trevor’s last budget meeting."

Trevor gave him a warning look, though there was amusement behind it. "That was a legitimate negotiation."

"It was a siege," Windstone corrected, straightening. "You starved the finance committee into submission."

Lucas let out a quiet laugh, the sound easing the sharp edges of tension that had been gathering in the room. "See? Even your butler sides with me."

"I’m not siding with anyone," Windstone said mildly, folding his hands behind his back. "I simply enjoy seeing truth prevail, my lord."

Trevor sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "You realize you’re encouraging him."

"I’ve long since accepted that’s part of my duties," Windstone said evenly, glancing at Lucas with a faint, conspiratorial gleam. "Your Grace, may I?"

Lucas gestured toward the empty chair beside him, half in jest. "Please. You’ve earned a seat."

Windstone hesitated again, the pause of a man weighing propriety against curiosity, then inclined his head. "Only until the soup course, then." He sat with quiet grace, every motion precise enough to make it seem choreographed.

Trevor gave him a long-suffering look. "I should start locking the dining room."

"You could," Windstone replied smoothly, "but then who would bring you food while you explain your history of doomed engagements?"

Lucas covered his mouth to stifle a laugh. "He has a point."

Trevor exhaled, resigned. "Fine. Since I seem to have acquired an audience..."

Windstone leaned slightly forward, expression polite but sharp. "You were speaking of Miss Vivienne, I believe. The one who tried to rewire the human genome over breakfast."

"That’s one way to phrase it," Trevor muttered, but the corner of his mouth betrayed him.

Lucas rested his chin on his hand, eyes bright with quiet amusement. "Now, continuing my train of thought, I have two assumptions for the past life. One, Vivienne lied about being a dominant omega and you," he pointed at Trevor without shame, "killed her."

"Not wrong about that." Windstone mumbled.

"Or two, she got the research right and became a dominant omega with Benedict’s help and died because of it or... again... Trevor killed her."

Trevor froze, fork midway to his plate, and gave Lucas a look that could have withered an oak tree. "You’re disturbingly comfortable assigning me murder as a hobby."