Lucas sat at the head of the long boardroom table, his expression an unreadable mask as a senior executive presented the quarterly projections. It was a high-stakes meeting, the kind where Lucas normally demanded absolute, uninterrupted focus from everyone in the room—including himself.
Then, the heavy oak doors clicked open.
Riven stepped inside, his usual relaxed posture completely gone. He bypassed the rest of the team and leaned down, whispering urgently into Lucas's ear.
"Boss, Mina is on the line. She’s hysterical. It’s about Elara."
With just those few words, Lucas froze. Without a single glance at the screen or the presenter, he pushed his chair back and stood up.
"Excuse me," he said flatly, his voice cutting through the room.
A collective murmur of surprise rippled through the executives. For the first time in corporate history, Lucas Draeven was walking out in the middle of an urgent meeting. He didn't care.
Riven immediately caught Throne's eye across the table. Throne, understanding the unspoken severity of the situation, nodded grimly. As Lucas strode out of the boardroom, Riven quickly briefed Throne on the slides, leaving him to take over the meeting while they handled the crisis.
The heavy doors shut behind Lucas, and he pressed the phone to his ear. On the other end, the sound of hyperventilating and panicked sobbing filled the speaker.
"Calm down, Mina," Lucas commanded, though his own jaw clenched so hard it ached.
"State the problem. What happened?"
"S-Sir Lucas..." Mina choked out, her voice cracking over the wind. "A black car... a black car took Elara! We got out of the commuter van because it stopped for a break... I went to the restroom and... and they grabbed her! She's gone!"
The words hit him like a physical blow.
Suddenly, the bizarre sensation he had felt just moments before Riven approached him made perfect sense. In the middle of the presentation, his chest had tightened, and his heart had begun to race with a frantic, unexplainable nervousness. Beneath his tailored shirt, the Seal on his chest had suddenly pulsed with a sharp, agonizing stab of heat—a cold, erratic hum that vibrated straight through his soul, signaling a violent spiritual distress. A dark, ugly premonition had tried to take root in his mind, but he had brushed it away, refusing to accommodate the terrifying thought. Now, the reality was staring him in the face.
He closed his eyes, a violent wave of regret washing over him. He couldn't even blame Mina. That morning, Lucas had explicitly offered to bypass the land commute entirely, insisting on having his private helicopter drop Elara and Mina directly at the province's helipad. But Elara had fiercely refused. She had argued that arriving in a billionaire's private chopper would draw insane amounts of attention, and she wouldn't know how to explain it to Mina's traditional family.
He had conceded. He had agreed to let them take the public van.
It was the worst decision I have ever made, Lucas thought, his knuckles turning white as his grip tightened on the phone. Never again. From now on, every single commute will be decided by me, without argument.
"Mina, listen to me," Lucas interrupted her, his voice dropping into a firm, authoritative register. "Stay exactly where you are. Do not move. My men are already tracking your coordinates, and someone will pick you up within minutes."
After getting the exact location of the highway gasoline station, Lucas hung up and immediately turned to Riven, who was waiting in the hallway.
"I’m leaving. Take care of everything here for the time being."
"On it, boss," Riven replied, already pulling up the security feeds.
Lucas hurried toward the private elevator, his thumb rapidly tapping his phone screen to check the security application.
Nothing.
The map was blank. There was no update on the rose-gold tracker. Damn it, he swore internally. She must not have found a single second of freedom to press the hidden button under the pink rose ornament.
As the elevator plunged toward the executive garage, Lucas didn't hesitate. He dialed a secure, private line, patching through directly to his own parents and grandparents. He briefly and clinically informed the elders of the Draeven family about the kidnapping, putting their entire massive global network at his disposal and leveraging their heavy influence to immediately lock down the borders.
Stepping into his sports car, the engine roared to life with a lethal purr. He didn't wait for his security detail to form a convoy. Squeezing the steering wheel, Lucas slammed on the gas, tearing out of the corporate garage and flying directly toward the highway gas station where someone had dared to touch what belonged to him.