~ Lucien ~
I watched the color drain from Seraphina’s face as we stood in the half-light of the parking lot. She looked small against the backdrop of the city’s glass towers, her fingers trembling where they gripped her car door handle. I didn’t move to touch her. Comfort was a luxury we couldn't afford, and I wasn't the man to provide it anyway. I was the man who provided the truth, no matter how much it cut.
"How long?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the distant hum of traffic.
"Since the gala," I said, my voice as flat and clinical as a post-mortem report. "Adrian didn’t just suggest an open marriage to be 'modern,' Seraphina. He set a trap. He knew you were at a breaking point, and he wanted to be the one holding the camera when you finally snapped".
I pulled a thin t
