Ariella felt it before she understood it.
The shift.
The subtle change in the air, like the universe leaning closer, listening.
Lucien stood near the window, phone pressed to his ear, his expression unreadable.
“Yes,” he said. “She doesn’t know yet.”
Her heart pounded.
“She’s stronger than they think,” he continued. “But that won’t stop them.”
Ariella stood abruptly. “Stop talking about me like I’m not here.”
He ended the call slowly, then turned to face her.
“You weren’t meant to hear that,” he said.
“Then maybe you shouldn’t have said it,” she snapped.
For the first time, his calm fractured.
“You’re in danger, Ariella,” he said sharply. “And whether you believe me or not, I’m the only reason you’re still safe.”
She laughed bitterly. “I didn’t ask for your protection.”
“No,” he agreed. “But you need it.”
They stood inches apart now, tension crackling between them. She could feel his presence—solid, overwhelming, impossible to ignore.
“Why do you care?” she asked quietly.
Lucien hesitated.
Just a second too long.
“Because,” he said finally, “you remind me of someone I failed.”
Her chest tightened.
Before she could respond, a loud knock echoed through the house..
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Lucien’s expression hardened instantly. “They’re here.”
Fear curled in her stomach. “Who?”
He reached for her wrist, his grip firm but protective.
“The ones who won’t stop,” he said. “Until they claim what they believe belongs to them.”
Ariella’s breath shook.
And as the door began to open—
She realized one terrifying truth.
Meeting Lucien wasn’t an accident.
It was the beginning.