Chapter 12
Sabine met Lucien the next morning.
She asked.
He agreed.
I stayed because both requested it.
No audience.
No family.
She entered the library and stopped when she saw him.
For all her knowledge, she had not seen him in almost two years.
“Lucien.”
He did not stand.
“Sabine.”
She started crying immediately.
He did not.
“I kept you alive.”
He stared.
“No.”
She flinched.
“Victor would have—”
“Owen kept me alive.”
Silence.
Good.
“You found me later.”
“Yes.”
“And then?”
“I gave you money.”
“You gave me exile.”
Her face collapsed.
“I thought Dorian would—”
“No.”
He raised one hand.
“You told me what Dorian would do. You never let him choose.”
There.
The central crime.
Not simply fire.
Not simply forged note.
Choice stolen repeatedly.
Mine.
Lucien’s.
Faye’s.
Even Father’s truth reshaped after death.
Sabine whispered:
“I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“The family splitting.”
Lucien laughed.
“You split the family.”
That landed.
She had tried to prevent two centers of power.
Instead created two brothers living in separate worlds.
“What did you want?”
I asked.
She looked at me.
“Order.”
Lucien shook his head.
“No.”
Then:
“You wanted to matter.”
Sabine’s eyes filled.
There.
Our father spoke constantly about his sons.
Dorian.
Lucien.
Succession.
Operations.
Legacy.
Sabine became useful only when conflict needed mediation.
She learned early that other people’s division gave her influence.
The proposed split between brothers terrified her.
Not because she would lose family.
Because each brother would have his own advisers.
His own household.
His own decisions.
Less need for Sabine.
She aligned with Victor.
Created crisis.
Then became keeper of the secret created by it.
I understood.
Did not excuse.
Sabine asked Lucien:
“Do you hate me?”
He thought.
“No.”
She looked surprised.
“I don’t trust you.”
Harder.
Then:
“And I don’t want you near Faye or June.”
She nodded.
No argument.
Progress maybe.
Then he looked at me.
“What happens to her?”
Not his decision.
Not mine alone?
Inside the organization, mine.
Inside family, relationships individual.
“She loses every role that lets her control access, staff, money, or information.”
Sabine closed her eyes.
The thing she feared most.
Irrelevance.
Not death.
May you like
Not violence.
No longer standing between people.
