Chapter 65

Lucian's POV I stepped into the family mansion with a single goal weighing on my chest—this would be the final conversation. No more submission or control. Today, I would sever the last thread my grandfather held over me. The butler hurried toward me, his face lighting up. "Young master, you are finally back," he said, a mix of relief and reverence in his voice. "Where is Grandpa?" I asked, my tone sharp, my patience already frayed. "The old master is in his study. Please, have a seat. I'll—" "No need." I raised a hand, cutting him off coldly. "I'll go to him." I walked with steady, unflinching steps toward the study. As I pushed open the heavy wooden door, the familiar scent hit me like a wall—metallic, almost like blood, mingled with the musk of old leather and the faintest trace of cigar smoke. The air was thick, heavy with history and dominance. The room hadn't changed. Dark wood shelves lined the walls, filled with thick volumes and ledgers that had mapped my life without my permi