CHAPTER 85: THE TWINSTER BENEATH THE MASK

"Didn’t you once swear you wouldn’t force Lucien to remember either of you?" Edmund asked quietly.

They stood in Lucien’s bedroom. The omega lay unconscious on the bed, his breathing shallow, his brows knotted tightly.

The doctor had already come and gone, leaving behind a diagnosis that only deepened the tension in the room: psychological strain, compounded by stress, had finally pushed Lucien past what his body could bear.

Even among capos and dons, the Silver Serpent was infamous for having more fragile constitution.

Silas dropped his gaze, shame tightening his shoulders. Adrian, arms folded behind him, exhaled hard before speaking.

"Silas told you the truth. Lucien was the one who asked about the past." His hands balled into fists behind his back.

"And yeah, of course I wanted him to know. I miss who he used to be. I miss our Lucien. But we would’ve stopped if I knew he’d end up like this."

All three of them turned toward the bed. Lucien’s eyes twitched beneath his lids, his body slick with cold sweat.

His jaw clenched as if he were reliving something he could not escape; a nightmare, or perhaps the night the tragedy actually happened.

Whatever it was, it hurt to watch.

"I shouldn’t have left the three of you alone for so long," Edmund muttered under his breath.

The Twinster joining Lunox had never been luck or timing. From the start, they’d tossed out excuses like, "You seem interesting. You’ll make a good lead," followed by, "We’ll still freelance for Blackshore, obviously."

They were terrible liars. Or perhaps they simply didn’t care about lying in the first place.

They’d only wanted an excuse to orbit Lunox. And Edmund finally understood why the moment they met Lucien.

He was finally able to point out their real reasoning and made a bet with them.

.

.

.

It was the night of Salvatore’s retirement from Lucero. Five years ago, after losing his son, he had stepped back from power and quietly guided Lucien as he rose to the position of Don.

He only resumed the role of consultant, nothing more, until the day his grandson no longer needed the safety net.

Tonight was his final toast as part of Lucero, and the old man’s eyes shone with pride while watching Lucien deliver a heartfelt speech.

Edmund still didn’t understand the appeal of parties. They were loud, wasteful, and full of people pretending to like each other.

Necessary for connections, yes, but exhausting all the same. He much preferred being a guest who could slip away unnoticed.

His eyes drifted to Lucien beneath the chandelier. The omega stood there as if carved from moonlight, elegant like jasmine blossoms swaying in warm air.

When Lucien laughed, the light in his eyes made Edmund narrow his own, as though the brightness stung. It hurt to look directly at him now.

Every time their gazes met, Lucien offered nothing but thinly veiled disdain. It was hard to reconcile with the softness they once shared.

"Young master, are you lost in your own world again?"

Adrian’s voice made Edmund blink back into reality. The assassin stood with a plate stacked with sweets, while Silas nursed a glass of champagne beside him, smiling like he already knew the joke.

"Yes. And once again you interrupted it," Edmund murmured.

They were both Blackshore assassins. It still baffled him how the organization managed to produce killers who looked barely eighteen.

Then again, he had heard the stories: children trained young, used for their small size, their speed, and their fear.

Vulnerability shaped into weapons. Blackshore molded them by exploiting everything that made them human.

"Come on, young master, loosen up," Adrian said, tapping his shoulder far too familiarly.

"With how open this party is, aren’t you worried your father’s men might try to kill you?"

’Here we go again.’ Edmund exhaled slowly.

Even as Lunox’s Leader, his father’s shadow clung like a stain. Randolph hated him enough to send a shooter just for the satisfaction.

"If that happens, it means you failed your job."

Silas spoke calmly. "Everything would end if you killed your father you know? Why bother to keep him alive in the first place."

Edmund’s jaw tightened. "Both of you should shut your mouth off if you want to survive this world." He turned and walked away.

"So we’re close to being official Lunox members?" Adrian asked, continuing to follow him with Silas right behind.

"Not yet. Give me a real reason why you want to join."

Edmund’s attention shifted when he reached Lucien. The omega noticed him instantly and glared, as if Edmund’s presence soured the air.

"Oh? The new boss of Lunox actually came to my humble party?" Salvatore greeted with a booming laugh.

"Of course. You’re like a grandfather to me. Congratulations on your retirement," Edmund replied, polite as ever.

"And who are these men behind you?" Salvatore asked.

"These are my new men, Adrian and Silas." Edmund gestured toward them, and they bowed in sync.

"Hm... that’s strange." Salvatore leaned closer, studying their faces.

"I swear I’ve seen them somewhere." Then he turned to Lucien. "Don’t they look exactly like those two friends you used to have?"

Edmund’s spine went rigid. He turned to the Twinster, who had gone completely still. Their eyes widened with a sudden spark of hope, their polite façade cracking into something raw.

They looked at Lucien with a softness that didn’t belong at a mafia party. Their shoulders loosened, their bodies leaning forward ever so slightly.

Edmund knew that look. It was longing. Someone searching for a lost piece of themselves.

"No," Lucien said coolly. "I didn’t have friends like that. Maybe your memory is failing, grandpa."

The words landed like a blade. Adrian’s smile trembled and died, bitterness tightening his jaw before he masked it.

Silas remained still, yet even Edmund noticed the faint droop of his shoulders, the breath he held too long.

The hope in their eyes flickered, then dimmed, but didn’t disappear completely.

’So they are truly connected to him,’ Edmund thought.

The realization settled in his chest, as his lips formed a smirk. He might finally crack the puzzle of why this ’one of the best assassins of Blackshore’ wanted to work with him.