Rebirth Of The Heiress And The Tycoon's Lover (Alina) novel Chapter 312

**Collapsed 312**

**Chapter 312**

**AUTHOR’S POV**

*One hour earlier…*

Lucian Blackwood was not the type to leave his home without informing Ace first. It was a rule, a habit he’d cultivated over the years, born from a deep-seated respect for their partnership.

But tonight, as he slid his arms into the tailored sleeves of his suit jacket and meticulously adjusted the cuffs, an unsettling energy coursed through him. It was a sharp, restless sensation that gnawed at his insides, relentless and insistent, driving him to the brink of madness.

He hadn’t intended to venture out just yet, especially not with everything surrounding Violet’s precarious condition and the lead they had been meticulously tracking. And most importantly, the enigmatic puppeteer orchestrating the chaos that had engulfed Stormvale remained a mystery, lurking in the shadows.

Yet tonight… tonight felt different.

It presented him with an unexpected opportunity.

A chance to meet with his informant.

The one guard he had successfully embedded within the fortified walls of Evergreen, the very walls that concealed a multitude of secrets but also harbored answers he desperately sought.

And… those walls also contained the woman he loved.

As he stood in the dimly lit hallway, fastening the last button of his blazer, Ace materialized in the doorway, his expression a blend of annoyance and concern that was all too familiar.

“Boss, are you absolutely certain about this?” Ace inquired, his arms crossed defensively against his chest. “Because honestly, it feels like I should be the one going, not you.”

Lucian shook his head sharply, the gesture firm and resolute. “No, Ace. Not tonight.”

Ace raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched across his features. He wasn’t naive; he could read Lucian like a well-worn book, each chapter familiar and revealing.

“This is the ideal moment for me to speak with the informant,” Lucian explained, his voice steady yet clipped, revealing nothing of the turmoil within. “The entire venue will be teeming with guests. No one will spare a glance for a solitary guard. He can navigate through the crowd unnoticed, and I can extract the information I need without arousing any suspicion.”

Ace let out a soft snort, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. “Right. And the fact that Alina will be at the ceremony has nothing to do with your personal desire to attend?”

Lucian hesitated for the briefest moment—a fleeting breath that felt like an eternity. A tightening sensation gripped his chest, one he fervently hoped Ace wouldn’t catch onto.

But Ace, ever the perceptive one, did notice.

Lucian averted his gaze, his jaw tightening in response. “This is strictly business, Ace. No room for distractions.”

“Uh-huh.” Ace dragged out the sound, skepticism lacing his tone. “Totally business, boss.”

The bond between Ace and Lucian had deepened significantly throughout this investigation, blurring the lines that once clearly separated their professional relationship from their personal one.

Yet Lucian found comfort in this newfound closeness; he had discovered a brother in Ace, someone he could rely on in this turbulent storm.

“Ace.” Lucian’s tone shifted, carrying a note of warning.

Ace raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. You’re going for work. I’m not going to argue. But what if Violet wakes up? She’s still drifting in and out of consciousness. With the sedatives wearing off, she might panic.”

Lucian’s voice softened, just a fraction, revealing a sliver of his concern. “That’s precisely why I need you here. If she wakes, keep her calm. Ensure she’s not alone. And if she’s hungry, just… manage it.”

Ace nodded slowly, a reluctant agreement forming. “Okay. But you better call if things go sideways.”

Lucian offered him one last look, a silent exchange that spoke volumes of their understanding. Then, with determination coursing through him, he stepped out into the enveloping night.

The drive to Evergreen Manor was shrouded in silence, the atmosphere thick with tension that pressed against his sternum with every passing minute.

He told himself it was about the investigation.

He told himself it was about the informant.

He told himself it was strategy.

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