"Can you not act like I just told you the world was ending?"
Cruxius sighed, dragging his hand down from her face. His thumb brushed against the fullness of her lower lip as he pulled away, leaving a lingering trail of heat that made Thalia’s breath hitch. He knew all too well that dealing with this woman was a hassle—especially now, when he needed ti, and that ti had just been restrained by the sudden arrival of a variable.
"You kidnapped from a hotel, dumped in a car, and now you’re springing a marriage proposal? You are the end of the world!"
Thalia, still struggling and flushed with a mix of fury and adrenaline, yanked his hand away with unexpected force. Her chest heaved beneath the thin fabric of her blouse, the frantic rhythm of her heart visible in the pulse point of her throat.
’...Wasn’t she the one?’
Ytrisia looked toward Thalia, observing her closely from the shadows of the car’s plush interior. Sothing about this woman felt familiar—not in an obvious way, but instinctively. She was almost certain she had seen her before... in the main palace in Spain.
The thought made Ytrisia’s eyes narrow, a cold spark of suspicion forming in her gaze. And yet, the way this whole conversation veered toward a marriage proposal confused her even more. Just a few hours ago, Cruxius had said sothing similar—to her. Not exactly the sa, but close enough. He had spoken of marrying her, and now, within that sa breath, he seed to be proposing to another woman.
It was as if he were going around collecting fiances like trophies. A frown ford on her face. ’No matter how she looked at it, this man was seriously ssed up.’
"Maybe. But if I’m the end, you’re the reason it started."
Cruxius leaned forward, the sudden movent closing the gap between them. His knee brushed against Thalia’s thigh, the friction of his expensive suit against her skin causing her to stiffen. He held up a crimson pendant—the stone catching a sharp shaft of light through the tinted window. It glowed with a deep, visceral red, looking less like jewelry and more like a drop of fresh blood suspended in the air.
"This," he said quietly, the humor gone from his voice, "belonged to my mother."
Thalia blinked, montarily thrown off by the sudden change in atmosphere. The raw sincerity in his tone, combined with the way his scent—a mix of expensive sandalwood and sothing dangerous—swirled around her, made her resolve waver.
"She told ," Cruxius continued, his eyes fixed on the necklace, "that I should only give it to the woman I’d marry. Not as a symbol of love, but as a burden—sothing that ties her fate to mine, just as hers was tied to my father’s."
He wrapped his long fingers around the pendant for a mont, then slowly extended it toward her. The tips of his fingers grazed her collarbone as he moved, a feather-light touch that sent a shiver racing down her spine.
"I don’t love you, Thalia. You don’t even like . But I want you to take responsibility for —learn from my father about handling the family business. That way, we might actually have a decent married life."
Thalia stared at him, her lips parted slightly. She was unsure whether to be insulted by his cold honesty or intrigued by the sheer weight of the artifact he was pressing upon her.
"Take it," he said at last, placing the necklace in her lap. The cold stone settled against her thighs, feeling unnervingly heavy. "Because whether you say yes or no now doesn’t matter. You’ve already seen it—no matter where you go, I’ll always chase you down."
’...’
Thalia looked down at the ruby. It pulsed faintly in the dim light, like a still heart waiting to beat again. She didn’t touch it at first, her eyes tracing the way the red light reflected off the curve of her own body. Finally, she t his gaze, her expression unreadable.
"...You really are a bastard," she said finally, her voice soft. She understood her situation perfectly. She had tried to run, tried to hide, but the Blac family’s reach was absolute. He was proposing marriage like a business arrangent... one where she was the cornered rat with no way out but through him.
Cruxius gave a faint grin, though it remained purely aesthetic, never reaching the predatory depths of his eyes. "So I’ve been told."
He watched with a sense of quiet satisfaction as she slowly picked up the necklace. Her fingers trembled slightly as she fastened the clasp, the crimson stone finally settling into the soft dip between her breasts, Stark and vivid against her skin.
Cruxius turned his gaze toward the window, arms folded, knowing he had closed Thalia’s Chapter—for now. By giving her direction, he had offered her sothing close to hope. Accepting his proposal ant gaining the power to learn directly from the head of the Blac Corporation.
In his past life, Thalia had shown unexpected maturity and dedication. She had been a force of nature when fueled by her child and her hatred for him. Back then, she had managed the vast Blac Empire with a cold efficiency he himself had lacked. Now, he was handing her the keys early.
The pendant—the Tears of Oracle—was more than a family heirloom. It was a rare artifact that offered glimpses of the future through dreams. Fragnted, forgotten by morning, but always subtly aligned with the wearer’s subconscious intentions. Cruxius himself couldn’t use it; his temporal powers made the visions redundant and chaotic. But for Thalia, it would be the spark she needed.
"When will I have to et him?" Thalia asked, her voice quieter, almost resigned. She glanced again at the pendant, feeling a strange, unnatural calm seep into her thoughts from where the stone rested against her chest.
"Now," Cruxius replied, just as the convoy of cars ca to a smooth halt.
The sudden stop caused Thalia to lurch forward slightly. Cruxius’s hand shot out, catching her by the waist to steady her. For a mont, she was pressed against him, the heat of his body radiating through his shirt. He gestured for her to exit his vehicle and enter one of the waiting cars that would take her directly to the main estate.
"What the...?"
Thalia found herself whisked away, seated in the new car before she could even register the change. Through the tinted glass, she saw Cruxius standing on the asphalt, the wind catching his hair. He offered a small, knowing smile—a silent farewell.
Until they t again, she would be grood to be the perfect wife for a man she currently loathed.
"Master," Darithi approached, her heels clicking against the pavent. She glanced at him before continuing, "The Villain Syndicate has taken full responsibility for the attacks."
"And?" Cruxius asked calmly. He tucked his hands into his pockets, his gaze still fixed on the disappearing tail lights of Thalia’s car.
"Um... the statent was released just now by Villain Syndicate 7. They publicly claid it. But... why would they do that?" Darithi’s voice held a note of genuine confusion. For the Syndicate to openly claim an attack of this magnitude would only provoke a scorched-earth response from the Hero Association.
So why would they—
’!?’
The question died in her throat as she saw the faint, dark grin spreading across Cruxius’ face. He turned toward her, his eyes sparkling with a wicked, playful light. With a subtle wink, he seed to let her in on the secret.
"Co on, Darithi," he said, his voice low and rich with amusent. "Wasn’t it indeed them?"
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