Rebirth Of The Heiress And The Tycoon's Lover (Alina) novel Chapter 314

**Collapsed 314**

**Chapter 314**

**AUTHOR’S POV**

With a determined shove, Lucian entered the suite, his presence filled with an intensity that no mere door slam could convey. Anger simmered just beneath the surface, palpable and raw.

The dim lighting cast long shadows across the room, creating an atmosphere thick with unspoken tension. The only sound disrupting the silence was the soft hum of the ventilation system, a stark contrast to the storm brewing within him.

Ace, perched on the edge of the sofa and meticulously cleaning a cartridge, didn’t need to lift his gaze to sense the shift in the air. It was as if the very atmosphere had chilled, a foreboding sign that something had gone awry.

As Lucian stepped through the threshold, that barely contained fury trailed behind him, settling into the space like an unwelcome shadow.

Slowly, Ace raised his eyes, bracing himself for the inevitable. And there it was—the unmistakable evidence of Lucian’s turmoil.

His jaw was set tight, muscles coiled in tension, and his expression resembled that of a statue, carved from unyielding stone.

“Any news from the informant?” Ace inquired, attempting to sound casual, though the pretense was thin. He was already aware that something significant had transpired.

Lucian merely grunted, a sound that was more animalistic than verbal, as he moved deeper into the room. “There’s nothing much.”

Ace’s eyebrows shot up. That grunt was not typical Lucian behavior, not even on his worst days. Something had triggered this shift, and Ace didn’t need to be a mind reader to discern that it revolved around one person—Alina.

Leaning back, he studied Lucian closely. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice slow and deliberate. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Lucian muttered, his tone clipped.

Ace couldn’t help but scoff quietly. “Is it because of Alina?”

That single question was like a match striking against dry tinder.

Lucian’s gaze snapped to him, eyes igniting with a fierce intensity that was both sharp and painfully honest.

And then, like a dam breaking, he unleashed the flood of his emotions.

“I saw her with a man,” Lucian spat out, each word laced with a mixture of disbelief and rage. “She was laughing and smiling like—” He halted mid-sentence, pacing a tight circle, his hands flexing at his sides as if he were trying to contain the tempest within. “I want you to do a background check on the guy.”

Ace’s expression shifted to one of concern. “Lucian.”

But Lucian continued his restless pacing, ignoring the warning in Ace’s voice.

“I mean it, Ace. I want every detail. His name, his family, his past, everything!”

“Lucian,” Ace interjected, his voice more commanding this time. “Calm down.”

The look Lucian shot him was anything but calm.

Yet Ace pressed on. “I understand you’re angry. I really do. But you need to keep your head clear. This isn’t the moment to get distracted, not when we’re so close to uncovering the truth.”

Lucian opened his mouth, likely to protest, to argue that he was entirely focused, but the words never left his lips.

A soft voice drifted in from the direction of the bedroom doorway, breaking the tension.

“Lucian…?”

Both men turned, their attention drawn to Violet, who stood there swaying slightly, one hand resting against the doorframe for support. The remnants of sleep still clung to her, softening her features and filling her eyes with drowsiness and confusion as she furrowed her brow.

She blinked at Lucian, absorbing the palpable tension radiating from him.

Immediately, he straightened, instinctively smoothing out the jagged edges of his emotions, masking the storm within.

“Lucian?” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. “What’s wrong?”

Lucian shook his head, his tone gentle yet firm. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.” To Ace’s surprise, there was a protective quality to his words. He approached her slowly, as if fearful she might crumble under the weight of the moment.

Once he reached her, he placed a steadying hand on her arm. “Come on,” he murmured. “Sit.”

He guided her carefully to the couch, her movements still caught between the realms of sleep and wakefulness, her gaze flitting between him and Ace.

Crouching beside her, Lucian leaned in slightly, close enough to check on her but maintaining a respectful distance.

“Why did you take off your IV?” he asked softly, his eyes scanning her face for any signs of weakness. “You shouldn’t be up like this.”

Violet glanced down at her arm, brushing her fingers over the faint, reddened mark. “The IV is empty,” she replied quietly. “And I feel so much better.”

Lucian exhaled, though some tension remained locked in his shoulders. “Just… don’t overdo it.”

His voice had softened considerably, a stark contrast to the anger that had surged just moments before, and Violet’s gaze warmed at this shift in his demeanor.

Still, her eyes searched his face, curious and concerned, as if she could sense the storm he was trying to conceal.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, tilting her head slightly, her tone laced with genuine worry.

Lucian’s jaw flexed. “I’m fine.”

But deep down, he knew that wasn’t true.

And she could see it, even though he was determined to keep his walls intact.

Straightening up, he created a fraction of distance between them, as if that would help him regain control over his expression.

“Just focus on recovering,” he instructed gently. “Let me handle the rest.”

Violet nodded, her gaze still piercing through him with a quiet, perceptive softness, even though something in her eyes suggested she remained unconvinced by his bravado.

Meanwhile…

Jessica hit the floor on her knees with such urgency that the impact echoed against the cracked marble tiles of the ancient office space. Her palms slapped down next, trembling uncontrollably as she bowed her head, her breath hitching in her throat.

“Please,” she pleaded, her voice breaking before she could even finish the sentence. “Please, just give me another chance.”

Silence enveloped her, the kind that twisted her stomach into knots of anxiety.

The mastermind sat in his usual spot, shrouded in shadows, the dim glow of the single bulb above Jessica failing to illuminate his features.

Only the silhouette of his form was visible, broad shoulders, the angle of his head, and the faint glint of metal rings adorning his fingers.

He remained still.

He didn’t breathe.

He exuded fury.

Finally, his voice sliced through the darkness, hard and controlled, vibrating with disappointment.

“Another chance?” he echoed, his tone razor-sharp. “You’ve had more chances than you ever deserved.”

Jessica dared to lift her head, her eyes wide, mascara streaking down her face like dark rivers. “I…I can fix it. I swear. I didn’t expect she would—”

He slammed his hand on the desk, the sound reverberating through the room.

Jessica flinched violently, her shoulder colliding with the floor.

“Useless,” he hissed. “Incompetent. A liability. There’s no point in keeping someone who can’t follow simple instructions.”

Tears filled her eyes in an instant. She pushed herself forward, closer to the shadows, her voice breaking into desperate sobs.

“Please…please, I’ll do better. I won’t fail again, I swear it on my life—”

“You already have,” he snapped, his voice cold and final.

Her breath hitched in her throat, understanding the weight of his words.

Everyone knew what that meant.

Elena hadn’t even been allowed a second sentence before he pulled the trigger.

Silas hadn’t even been given the chance to scream.

He killed without hesitation. Without mercy. Without a trace of emotion.

Jessica felt her heartbeat clawing up her throat, panic flooding her senses.

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