Dinner With a Monster
1504 Words
The envelope sat untouched on the dining table.
No one had opened it.
No one had even moved it.
Lucien had ordered every member of his security team to scan it for explosives, poison, hidden trackers, and microscopic transmitters before allowing it inside the mansion.
It had passed every test.
Yet something about it still felt dangerous.
Elena stared at her name written across the front in elegant black ink.
“You’re not opening it?”
Lucien looked up from the opposite end of the table.
“Not until we know who sent it.”
“We found it on a dead man.”
“I know.”
She sighed.
“Everything seems to come from dead people these days.”
The words hung awkwardly between them.
A maid quietly entered the dining room and began setting plates on the long mahogany table.
Roasted lamb.
Garlic potatoes.
Fresh bread.
A bottle of sparkling water.
The rich aroma filled the room, but Elena realized she wasn’t hungry.
Not after everything that had happened.
The maid finished arranging the dishes and bowed slightly.
“Dinner is served, sir.”
Lucien nodded.
“Thank you.”
When the woman left, Elena looked around the enormous dining hall.
The table was easily long enough for thirty people.
Crystal chandeliers glowed overhead.
Portraits of stern-faced ancestors watched from the walls.
Yet only two places had been set.
“It feels strange.”
Lucien unfolded his napkin.
“What does?”
“This room.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“It’s too big.”
“It was built for family dinners.”
She looked around again.
“Does your family come here often?”
A shadow crossed his face.
“They used to.”
She immediately regretted asking.
“I’m sorry.”
He simply picked up his glass.
“You didn’t know.”
Silence settled between them as they began eating.
To Elena’s surprise, the food was excellent.
“You can actually cook?” she asked, remembering Adrian’s story.
Lucien almost smiled.
“I learned after setting a kitchen on fire.”
She laughed before she could stop herself.
“So Adrian wasn’t lying.”
“He rarely does.”
For a brief moment…
The mansion felt almost normal.
No gunfire.
No alarms.
No threats.
Just two people sharing a quiet meal.
Then Elena noticed something.
Lucien hadn’t touched the lamb.
Only the vegetables.
“You don’t eat meat?”
“I do.”
“Then why aren’t you?”
He looked at the plate for a moment.
“My mother used to make this recipe.”
Understanding softened Elena’s expression.
“It reminds you of her.”
He gave a slight nod.
The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable.
It was simply… human.
Elena reached for the bread basket.
At the exact same moment, Lucien reached for it too.
Their fingers brushed.
She instinctively pulled back.
“So we’re still pretending you don’t like me?” he asked quietly.
She blinked.
“What?”
“You’ve been angry with me since the day we met.”
“I had good reasons.”
“You did.”
“And I still do.”
“I know.”
She studied him carefully.
“You don’t argue much.”
“I argue when there’s a chance of winning.”
“And this?”
“This isn’t a battle.”
Before she could answer, Adrian entered the dining room carrying the envelope.
“We’ve finished examining it.”
Lucien looked up.
“Results?”
“No toxins.”
“No explosives.”
“No tracking devices.”
He placed the envelope on the table between them.
“But there was one unusual detail.”
Lucien waited.
Adrian looked at Elena.
“It was sealed with the same wax symbol that appears on your mother’s letter.”
Elena’s pulse quickened.
The crescent moon behind the wolf.
Lucien carefully picked up the envelope.
This time, he didn’t stop her.
Instead, he slid it gently across the table.
“It’s your decision.”
Elena looked at him in surprise.
“You’re letting me choose?”
“You said you were tired of others making your choices.”
She nodded slowly.
“I was.”
“Then choose.”
The room fell silent.
Her fingers trembled as she reached for the envelope.
She carefully broke the wax seal.
Inside…
There was no letter.
Only a single black-and-white photograph.
She lifted it into the light.
It showed a little girl standing beside a grand fountain.
She couldn’t have been older than four.
At first, Elena smiled.
“It’s me.”
Then she looked closer.
The little girl wasn’t alone.
Standing behind her…
One hand resting protectively on her shoulder…
Was Lucien.
Much younger.
Watching over her.
Years before they were supposed to have ever met.
The color drained from Elena’s face.
She slowly looked up at him.
“You knew me…”
Her voice barely rose above a whisper.
“…long before the contract.”
Lucien didn’t deny it.
And somehow…
That hurt more than any lie ever could.
The photograph trembled in Elena’s hands.
She looked from the faded image to the man sitting across from her.
Then back again.
“No…”
She whispered the word more to herself than anyone else.
“This can’t be real.”
Lucien remained silent.
His silence was answer enough.
“You knew me.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“A long time ago.”
“How long?”
He drew a slow breath.
“Before your fifth birthday.”
Her heart skipped.
“I don’t remember you.”
“You weren’t meant to.”
The words confused her even more.
“What does that mean?”
Lucien leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable.
“You were too young.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“That’s not what you meant.”
Another silence stretched between them.
Finally, he spoke.
“You suffered a traumatic event.”
She frowned.
“I don’t remember anything happening.”
“Exactly.”
Amelia, who had quietly entered the dining room, lowered her eyes.
“Some memories disappear because the mind can’t carry them.”
Elena looked at her.
“So everyone knew except me?”
“No,” Amelia answered softly.
“We knew pieces.”
Lucien corrected her.
“We knew fragments.”
“Stop talking like it’s some puzzle!”
Elena’s voice cracked with emotion.
“This is my life!”
She stood so abruptly that her chair scraped loudly across the marble floor.
“You all keep deciding what I can and can’t know.”
Her breathing became uneven.
“My father lied.”
“My mother left riddles.”
“Cassandra tells half-truths.”
“And you…”
She looked directly at Lucien.
“…you watched me grow up without ever telling me.”
Lucien slowly rose to his feet.
“I watched from a distance.”
“Why?”
“Because it was safer.”
“For who?”
“For you.”
She laughed bitterly.
“That’s becoming your favorite excuse.”
“It isn’t an excuse.”
“Then what is it?”
“The truth.”
Before she could argue again, Adrian hurried into the room with another file in his hands.
“Boss.”
Lucien didn’t take his eyes off Elena.
“What is it?”
“We’ve identified the fountain in the photograph.”
Elena immediately turned toward him.
“Where?”
Adrian placed the file on the table.
“It no longer exists.”
“What?”
“It was demolished sixteen years ago.”
He opened the file to reveal several aerial photographs.
“It stood on a private estate outside Florence, Italy.”
Elena stared at the images.
“Italy?”
“I’ve never been to Italy.”
Lucien’s expression grew thoughtful.
“No…”
He said quietly.
“You haven’t.”
Adrian hesitated before adding,
“But according to immigration records…”
He looked directly at Elena.
“…you entered Italy twice before your sixth birthday.”
Silence.
Elena slowly backed away from the table.
“That’s impossible.”
“It shouldn’t be.”
“But I don’t remember.”
Lucien looked at the photograph one last time.
“You weren’t supposed to.”
A heavy silence settled over the room.
Then the mansion’s front doors echoed with three slow knocks.
Not hurried.
Not fearful.
Deliberate.
Every guard in the hallway reached for a weapon.
One of the security officers answered through the intercom.
“Identify yourself.”
A calm male voice replied.
“I have an appointment with Mr. Devereaux.”
The guard frowned.
“We’re not expecting anyone.”
“I know.”
The stranger paused.
“But Elena has been expecting me…”
Another pause followed.
“…for the last eighteen years.”
Lucien’s eyes turned cold.
He already knew who was standing outside.
And judging by the look on his face…
He had hoped never to see that man again.
- Writer
