Lucien’s POV
Vivienne was taking full advantage of her fake injury. The entire east wing of the mansion was completely filled with the non-stop, high-pitched ringing of her bedroom service bell, a sound that echoed through the hallways every five minutes without fail. She was treating my staff like her personal pool attendants, demanding that they bring her specific organic green juices squeezed from imported vegetables, exotic fruits cut into identical shapes, and a continuous rotation of French fashion magazines that Arthur had to send a courier downtown to fetch. She was running a total simulation of a luxury resort right inside her quarters, and the entire household was completely exhausted by her entitlement.
I marched down the long corridor, my leather shoes clicking heavily agains
