The mansion fell silent.
No one moved.
No one spoke.
Lucien stared toward the front gate as if he were looking at a ghost.
“My brother…”
he whispered.
Victor frowned.
“You truly believed he was dead?”
Lucien nodded.
“I buried an empty coffin.”
The words settled heavily over the room.
“My father insisted there wasn’t enough left after the fire.”
His jaw tightened.
“I was sixteen.”
“I believed him.”
⸻
Damien turned to one of the security monitors.
The cameras zoomed in on the front entrance.
A lone man stood outside the iron gates.
His dark coat was soaked from the rain.
His head was lowered.
One hand rested in his pocket.
The other held nothing.
No weapon.
No bag.
Just a man waiting.
Then…
He slowly lifted his face.
The resemblance stole my breath.
He looked lik
