Chapter 13

Recalling the disastrous fate of that previous business partner, Michael silently calculated how many hours he'd need to be prepared to be expelled from the pack.

He inhaled deeply, steeling himself for the tempest of Lucas's rage.

To his absolute shock, Lucas not only picked up the tickets but examined them with unexpected interest, his fingers tracing the embossed lettering with something approaching tenderness.

The tickets were elegantly minimal-clean black typography on heavy cream cardstock, containing only essential information without a single decorative flourish.

The stark simplicity transported Lucas to a moment he'd spent years trying to forget.

Aria, curled up on their bed three years ago, sketching ticket designs on her tablet, her hair piled messily atop her head. She'd been so alive then-passionate, determined, completely herself.

"Look at this," she'd said, holding up a clean, minimalist design. "Don't you think this actually communicates more than all that cluttered nonsense they keep asking for?"

He remembered how she would return from her internship at Silver Crescent Ballet, dramatically flopping onto their couch with entertaining impressions of the marketing director.

"It needs more pizzazz," she'd mimic in an exaggerated voice, gesturing wildly. "Make the font bigger! Add sparkles! People won't know it's art unless we hit them over the head with it!"

Lucas had laughed then-casually, carelessly, not appreciating how perfect those ordinary moments were. How perfect she had been.

If he hadn't destroyed everything with his revenge plot, would they be sharing those moments still? Would she be designing minimalist tickets for performances he attended proudly as her mate?

The thought sliced through him with surgical precision.

Something about these tickets felt like a sign-an impossible, irrational signal that he should attend. A whisper in his mind suggested that perhaps, somehow, he might find a trace of Aria there, some

of what he'd

fully understanding his own impulse, he carefully slid the

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Billionaire AI

beta:

made obligatory

acknowledged them with minimal effort-a slight nod, a disinterested

tensed reflexively. Dance performances had become

in a blush-pink costume, frozen in elegant repose. When the music began,

half-mask concealing her features, her artistic expression radiated through every gesture. Lucas, who had been enduring rather than watching, found

Lucas's wolf suddenly showed signs and

she extended through her fingertips during an arabesque, the characteristic tilt of her head during pirouettes, the musicality

demonstrating a phrase she'd been working on. "Watch this transition," she'd said, executing the exact

in his throat as

on stage moved with such similar qualities that he could almost believe the

of the stage nearest his seat, Lucas found himself leaning forward involuntarily, heart hammering against his ribs. His

was a bit restless.

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Billionair

Chapter 13

whispered, the name escaping before

the briefest moment, almost imperceptible to anyone else, the dancer's rhythm faltered slightly-a millisecond hesitation

variation without acknowledging the front

momentary break in perfection sent electricity through Lucas's veins. It couldn't

coincidence. It couldn't.

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