Lucian
Morning crept in with a soft golden hue, and for a long moment, I refused to open my eyes.
Spending the night in the mansion had felt like a good idea yesterday—safe, familiar, private. But now, as I lay there listening to the soft rhythm of Mara’s breathing beside me, the dread of morning set in. I knew what lay ahead. Breakfast.Or more accurately, a tribunal with food on the table.
I hated breakfast. Always had. And this one was bound to be worse than usual.
I could already see the topics lining up like soldiers waiting for orders. Darian’s daughter would be mentioned. His move out of the mansion. His marriage to Tiffany—who, let’s face it, still had the emotional range of a locked door when it came to him. Me offering them refuge? Definitely an offence in my father’s book. Th
