The Trap Springs
"Go ahead," Lucas said calmly, his voice carrying quiet authority."But don't hurt her. Just kill the guy next to her."
He didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to.
The kind of authority he carried wasn't loud—it pressed down on people, slow and suffocating, until obedience felt like the only natural response.
He leaned back in his chair in the monitoring room, the leather creaking faintly beneath his weight. One leg crossed over the other, posture relaxed, almost bored—but his eyes… his eyes never left the screen.
Cold. Focused. Calculating.
On the screen, Charlotte Bonds and Julian D'Aurelius were still wandering around the underground casino.
Lucas had no idea about Julian's true strength.
After all, Evan had never told anyone about being injured by Julian.
And the members of the Scythe Division had been captured before they could report anything.
To Lucas, Julian was nothing more than a rich playboy from the D'Aurelius household.
A useless obstacle.
