Lucian.
The name alone sent a shiver down Amelia’s spine.
She had spent years running from him.
From them.
From the dark, twisted thing they had called love.
And now, he had found her again.
Standing in the doorway of the safehouse like a goddamn ghost from her past, smirking like he still owned her.
Dominic tensed beside her, his entire body coiled with the kind of rage that promised violence. His fingers twitched toward his gun, his jaw tightening.
But Lucian?
He wasn’t afraid.
No—he was amused.
“Hello, darling,” he drawled, stepping inside as if he belonged there. As if he was the one who had left her, and not the other way around. “Miss me?”
Amelia’s throat tightened.
Because the worst part?
For one brief, treacherous second—
She had.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Amelia for
