A family affair

The car ride was quiet. Outside, the rain blurred the streetlights into streaks of yellow against the dark glass. Evelyn sat straight, her hands resting in her lap. She didn’t look at Lucien, but she could feel him there. He looked more focused now, like he was stepping into a different role.

Lucien kept his eyes on the road, his hands steady on the steering wheel. “My mother knows why we married,” he said. His voice was low and calm. “She knows we need an heir to secure the family’s position. She wants to see that I am taking care of you regardless.”

Evelyn watched the trees pass by. “So we aren’t just partners tonight?”

“No,” Lucien said. He slowed the car as they turned into a long, private driveway. “Tonight, we are a couple. If she thinks this is just a cold business deal, she will step in. She needs to see that we are comfortable together.”

He pulled the car to a stop in front of a large, glowing house. It looked much warmer than Lucien’s estate. He didn’t get out right away. He turned to Evelyn and reached over, his hand pausing before he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers brushed against her skin for a second.

He got out of the car and walked around to her side. When he opened the door, he held out his hand and gave her a small, calm smile.

The heavy front doors opened, and the warmth from the foyer hit them immediately. It was a sharp contrast to the biting evening air. Inside, the house didn’t feel like Lucien’s cold estate. Instead, the air carried the faint, sweet scent of vanilla and expensive wood polish.

The temperature was perfect, comfortably warm in a way that made the tension in Evelyn’s shoulders drop just a fraction. This wasn’t a place meant to look untouched; it was a home meant to be lived in.

The visuals were just as striking. Soft, golden light from a crystal chandelier spilled over the cream colored walls and thick, plush carpets that muffled their footsteps. Large oil paintings of the family hung in gilded frames, their eyes seeming to watch the couple as they walked deeper into the hall. In the center of the foyer stood a massive vase filled with fresh lilies, their white petals glowing under the lights.

Lucien didn’t let go of her hand. He kept his grip firm but gentle, pulling her slightly closer to his side as they approached the arched doorway of the main sitting room.

Everything looked elegant and welcoming, but Evelyn knew better. Behind the soft music playing in the distance and the beautiful décor, the real work was about to begin. She took a breath, feeling the heat of the house settle on her skin, and prepared to meet the woman who held the keys to Lucien’s world.

They moved toward the dining room, the sound of their shoes muted by the thick carpets. The air here was even warmer, smelling of roasted rosemary and red wine. In the center of the room, a long mahogany table was set for three. The silverware gleamed under the soft light, and the wine glasses were polished to a shine.

Lucien’s mother, Jane, was already seated at the table. She didn’t look like a woman who was easily impressed. She wore a dark silk dress and pearls, her posture as sharp as a blade. Her eyes, the same piercing color as Lucien’s, immediately went to their joined hands.

“Two years,” Margaret said, her voice smooth but cool. She didn’t stand up. “Two years of living abroad, Evelyn, and now you finally return to us. I began to wonder if my son was married to a woman or a ghost.”

Lucien didn’t flinch. He led Evelyn to her chair and pulled it out for her with a practiced, graceful motion. “Evelyn is quite studious, Mother. We’ve discussed this.”

“We discussed the necessity of it,” Jane corrected, picking up her wine glass. She looked at Evelyn over the rim. “But necessity doesn’t build a home. Or a family.”

Evelyn felt the weight of Jane’s stare. It was clear that while Jane knew about the contract, she didn’t trust Evelyn’s sudden appearance. To her, Evelyn was still a stranger who had been a name on a piece of paper for two years.

“I am here now,” Evelyn said, her voice steady. She met Margaret’s gaze without looking away. “And I intend to make up for the time I spent away.”

Lucien sat down beside Evelyn, placing his hand over hers on the table. It was a firm, grounding weight. “She has already made herself quite at home,” he added, giving his mother a pointed look.

Jane set her glass down with a soft click.

“We shall see,” Jane said, a small, tight smile appearing on her face.

Lucien scanned the room, his brow furrowing as he noticed the empty chair at the head of the table. The house was too quiet, and the absence of his father felt like a heavy weight.

“Where is Father?” Lucien asked. “I thought he would be joining us.”

Jane’s hand tightened around the stem of her wine glass. She didn’t look at him. “He is in his study, Lucien. He had some business to finish before dinner.”

The answer was short and vague, lacking the usual detail his mother provided about his father’s schedule. Lucien watched her closely. He noticed the way her shoulders went rigid and how she carefully avoided his gaze. She was visibly tensing up, her polished mask starting to show a few cracks.

“Is he with someone?” Lucien pressed, his voice dropping an octave. “Is there a reason he’s staying in there while his guest is at the table?”

Jane didn’t answer his question. Instead, she turned her focus to Evelyn, her expression smoothing out into a practiced, maternal smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Eve, darling,” Jane said, her voice sounding forced and bright. “Why don’t you have a seat? I’ve been dying to hear about your time away. Tell me, what was it that interested you so much in Europe that you stayed for two long years?”

Lucien recognized that tone. His mother was moving the conversation away from the study and whoever was with his father.