Chapter 240

The scene repeated itself once more. Vanessa could detect the sharp scent of whiskey clinging to his clothes, but she knew better than to comment. All she could manage was to press her palm against her nose, her face twisting in distaste.

"Have you been drinking?"

"That sensitive, are we?" Lucien smirked, stepping closer with deliberate slowness.

"Tell me, can you identify what I had for dinner too?"

The alcohol fumes intensified as he neared, making her stomach churn. She recoiled instantly, putting distance between them. "Stop that!"

"Don't tell me you're squeamish." His laughter was low and mocking. "This is part of your training. A perfumer needs a refined nose, doesn't she?" His fingers brushed against her cheekbone.

Vanessa had no patience for his games. "Enough jokes. We're running out of time. Remember your promise? Can you even focus in this state?"

His gaze traveled down her body with deliberate leisure. "Why don't you test how focused I am?" He pressed the elevator button without breaking eye contact, leaving her speechless.

The lab was dark when they arrived, all equipment neatly stored away. Thankfully, Vanessa had done her homework—she knew exactly where the failed samples were hidden. Her hands trembled slightly as she flicked the lights on.

Only the night guard remained in the building. She'd told him she was pulling an all-nighter and not to disturb her. After ensuring their privacy, she'd waited in the underground parking for Lucien's arrival.

"Look at these." Vanessa motioned to the row of tiny vials she'd arranged on the counter.

"These are the recent failures. Followed your formula precisely—measurements exact. But the scent profile is off. There's contamination somewhere." Her voice tightened. This wasn't just about tonight—her entire future hinged on this. "I suspect the lavender base might be reacting with other components. Your thoughts?"

Silence.

She turned to find Lucien slumped against a worktable, eyes closed. Fury ignited in her chest.

"Lucien! You swore you'd help me!" She kept her voice low but razor-sharp. "Is this a joke to you?"

He stretched lazily. "Just resting my eyes. Stop overreacting. Minor scent deviations happen—humidity, temperature fluctuations. Basic chemistry, darling. Surely you know that?"

With deliberate slowness, he plucked the vials from her workstation and gave them a cursory sniff.

"Garbage." He tossed them into the bin with a clatter.

Vanessa lunged forward. "Are you insane? What if someone checks tomorrow?"

His grin was wolfish. "Tomorrow you'll have perfect samples. Why keep evidence of failure?"

Her anger dissolved into stunned hope. "You mean... it'll work?"

"Pathetic." Lucien shook his head as he began gathering materials from the supply closet. "Even if your formula succeeds, that transparent face of yours will betray you."

Vanessa barely heard the insult. Her entire being focused on his movements—each measured step, each selected ingredient. In this moment, he wasn't just a man. He held her destiny in those whiskey-scented hands.