The next few days felt heavier. Lucian’s rules hung over everything like a dark cloud.
One afternoon, I was reading in the living room when he came home earlier than usual. He dropped a stack of papers on the coffee table and looked at me.
“Review these and sign where marked,” he said. “They’re just formal documents for the marriage registration.”
I picked them up carefully. “Okay. I’ll do it now.”
As I reached for a pen, our hands brushed again. This time his fingers stayed for a second longer, warm against mine. He pulled back quickly, but I saw the way his jaw tightened.
“Thank you,” I said softly.
He gave a short nod and walked away without another word.
That evening, Mrs. Hale told me dinner would be at seven again. I changed into a simple dress and went downstairs. Lucian was
