Lucas found himself dragged along for the ride, though no one bothered to explain why. The tension in the car was palpable, every silence heavier than the last.

They arrived at an opulent private club, its neon lights casting eerie shadows across the street. Inside, the air was thick with smoke and tension. Elena’s men flanked her as they made their way to a private lounge.

Seated at a large table was a man with sharp features and a scar running down his cheek. Ramos.

“Elena,” he said with a mocking grin, spreading his arms wide. “What a surprise.”

“Save it,” Elena snapped, taking a seat across from him. “You stole from me, Ramos. That was a mistake.”

Ramos leaned back in his chair, unfazed. “Stealing is such a harsh word. Let’s call it… borrowing.”

Lucas stood awkwardly behind Elena, trying to make himself invisible. But Ramos’s eyes found him anyway, curiosity gleaming.

“And who’s this? Your new protégé?” Ramos asked, his tone dripping with mockery.

Elena’s expression didn’t waver. “He’s none of your concern.”

Ramos chuckled, his gaze lingering on Lucas. “Interesting choice. You don’t usually keep strays.”

Elena leaned forward, her voice low and dangerous. “Careful, Ramos. I’m not in the mood for games.”

The tension between them was electric, the room so silent that Lucas could hear his own heartbeat. Ramos’s smirk faltered, replaced by a sharp edge.

“You’re bold, Elena. I’ll give you that. But boldness can only take you so far.”

“And cowardice will get you nowhere,” Elena retorted smoothly.

The exchange ended abruptly as Elena stood, signaling to her men. “Enjoy your evening, Ramos. While you still can.”

As they left the club, Lucas finally found his voice. “Why did you bring me here?”

Elena glanced at him, her expression unreadable. “Because you’re useful, Lucas. You may not realize it yet, but you are.”

He frowned, frustration bubbling to the surface. “Useful for what? To make some kind of point to that guy?”

She smirked faintly. “Exactly.”

Lucas stared at her, realizing just how calculated every one of her actions was. He wasn’t just a pawn in her game—he was a statement, a weapon she wielded in ways he didn’t yet understand.

As they drove back to the mansion, one thought plagued his mind: How long would it be before he stopped questioning her and started becoming like her?