Lucian stood before me holding an oil painting, his eyes brimming with hope.
"I bought it back. It's yours again."
It had been my most treasured piece. Lucian had won it at an auction for me, paying a fortune. Then one day, Wren mentioned offhand that she'd grown up poor and had never seen a real masterpiece—and Lucian turned right around and gave it to her.
Back then he'd coaxed me, saying, "There'll be plenty more paintings like this. Be a good girl and let Wren enjoy it for now." It hadn't mattered to him that I'd held that painting every night as I fell asleep, and that it had filled me with so much joy.
I shook my head gently. "I have a much larger collection of masterpieces now. That one you're holding? I don't want it anymore." The light went out of Lucian's eyes. He stood there
