A Table Of Lies

Celine’s POV

I’ve come to understand that there’s a love-hate relationship between Celeste and Lucien. One minute he’s all over me, and the next, he can’t stand me. I only confirmed it when he decided he had to humiliate me in front of his family.

The Devereux estate looked like something out of a gothic dream—extravagant, breathtaking, almost unreal. 

The estate was a masterpiece of shadows and light—high, vaulted ceilings adorned with intricate chandeliers, tall windows draped in heavy velvet, and a few solemn ancestral portraits lining the walls. Every inch of the place whispered old money and power—the kind that made you feel small even when you stood tall.

I did my best to mask my awe; my sister must have been here a dozen times and would have blended in as if it were her own. But damn, these people were swimming in opulence.

Lucien walked beside me, his hand resting lightly at my lower back—a small gesture that felt anything but. To anyone watching, we were the perfect couple. Inside, though, I could barely breathe.

We entered the dining hall, where everything shimmered under the golden light.

During the drive here, he’d briefed me on who we would be meeting. He truly seemed to care about this dinner and wanted to make sure I didn’t ruin it. The elegant, middle-aged woman at the head of the long table caught my attention first—his mother, regal and poised. 

She had Lucien’s sharp features softened by age—high cheekbones, a graceful neck, and eyes that once might have been kind but now held the weight of too many expectations. Even her silence demanded attention.

Then there was a man lounging nearby, amusement playing on his lips. I assumed that was Damien, Lucien’s cousin.

Lucien pulled out a chair for me, and I sat, watching him warily.

“Stay put and smile,” he murmured under his breath. “You’re supposed to look happy.”

I forced a small smile. It didn’t reach my eyes. He crossed to his mother and kissed her cheek. I couldn’t quite hear what they said, but I’d thought at least I’d get to greet her before dinner.

Dinner began quietly, silver clinking against porcelain, the sound echoing through the enormous room. My palms were damp, but I kept my head high. Then Lucien’s voice broke the silence.

“Remind me again, Celeste,” he said smoothly, cutting his steak with controlled motions. “Where did we first meet?”

I looked up with a frown. It was a test. He… he’s suspicious of me. This isn’t good.

“At the Rosemont Benefit Dinner,” I said, praying I remembered right. “You spilled champagne on my dress—claimed red suited me better.”

He paused, knife stilling midair. Then that faint unreadable smirk curved on his lips.

“So I did.” He raised his glass slightly, eyes never leaving mine. A shiver ran through me. Mom told me everything I needed to know about their relationship, but being here now tells me that its not enough. I only got lucky this time.

Damien chuckled from across the table.

“You pervert,” he laughed, swirling his wine. “What was your motive for doing something like that to our lovely Celeste, huh?”

Lucien didn’t respond. He didn’t even glance his way—just kept eating.

“Don’t worry, Damien, I don’t mind at all.” I laughed softly, but regret hit instantly when Lucien’s strong hand clamped around my thigh. My head snapped toward him. He still wasn’t looking at me, but the warning in his posture was clear.

Damien raised a brow and mumbled, “Oh, I see.” Then he laughed. He was a decent-looking man with long, dirty-blond hair, an angular face, and dark eyes. But he was nowhere near my god of a husband.

“I mean, you have to forgive Casanova since he sealed the deal with a ring, am I right?”

I nodded slowly. I could feel my mother-in-law’s eyes on me; she hadn’t said much since I arrived. I was starting to get the feeling she didn’t like Celeste.

The table fell into an uncomfortable silence, the kind that made every clink of silverware sound louder. Lucien’s fingers traced lazy circles on my thigh while he ate, his touch both possessive and distracting. It was strange—but it could be worse. I could be on his bad side.

Then Damien mentioned a name that froze the room.

“It’s strange without him here,” Damien said quietly. “The house still feels… empty.”

Lucien’s mother’s knife paused mid-cut. Lucien’s shoulders tensed. I swallowed hard. The air in the room seemed to thin. He was talking about Zane — Lucien’s younger brother. The one who’d died.

My mother had mentioned it once, how the Devereux family still grieved him.

“Zane died because he trusted the wrong people,” Lucien said quietly. But his hands clenched slightly around the glass he was holding.

“It was a foolish mistake.” He seethed.

Trying to help, I whispered,

“He must have been a good man.”

Lucien’s free hand halted on my thigh—controlled, as if he were holding himself together by force. When he turned his head toward me, his expression was unreadable, but his eyes were cold, filled with malice which made my stomach drop.

“Don’t speak about him. You have no right.” He hissed. 

“I didn’t mean—”

“Enough.” I’ve seen him irritated more than once, but this time, it felt like he could order my Execution then and there. “Know your place, Celeste.” 

The rest of the meal passed in silence, and I’m left with only regret. When dinner finally ended, I exhaled. Thinking it was finally over. The doors burst open.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry I’m late!” a girl’s voice rang through the dining room. Everyone turned, except Lucien.

A young woman hurried in, slightly breathless, her hair a messy halo of dark curls. She clutched a paper folder to her chest, an apologetic smile tugging at her lips.

“I swear, the traffic was unending and then my exam ran over time, and—” she froze when she noticed everyone staring at her. “Oh. I probably should’ve texted.”

Lucien’s mother exhaled quietly, pressing her napkin to her lips.

“It’s fine, Elara. You’re here now.”

Elara. So this was Damien’s sister. Lucien’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly before he stood.

“We’re done here anyway,” he said coolly. His chair scraped the marble floor as he pushed back. “Excuse me.”

He was gone before anyone could respond. Elara didn’t seem bothered by the sudden chill he left behind. She hurried to her aunt’s side and wrapped her in a quick hug. 

“You look stunning as always, Aunt Matilda. Seriously, how do you manage it?”

Matilda, Lucien’s mom, gave a small smile that was unmistakably genuine. 

“Elara, you flatterer.” She laughed, tugging at her cheek playfully. She sighed happily and rose from her seat. 

“Eat up, we’ll catch up afterwards dear.” Elara nodded while Matilda strode out. Elara laughed, sliding into the seat Lucien had just left. Her bright eyes landed on me, curious.

 “And you must be Celeste.”

“Yes,” I said, unsure how to handle her energy.

“Oh my god, you’re gorgeous,” she said without hesitation. “I’ve heard so much about you. I can already tell we’re going to be best friends. Congratulations by the way.”

“That’s… sweet of you. And thank you so much.” I said, couldn’t help but smile a little. Across the table, Damien shook his head with a small grin. 

“Still the same,” he said. “You could charm a ghost into talking, Elara.” She shot him a playful glare. 

“Don’t act like you don’t miss me, big brother. You look thinner. Have you even been eating?”

“How can I keep all of this?” Damien gestures to all of him. “If I eat to your standards huh ? Not everyone’s life revolves around dessert.”

Elara gasped dramatically, blinking quickly.” 

“Excuse me? Dessert is sacred.”

I found myself laughing quietly, they really were siblings. Their energy was in perfect sync.

After a while, I left them both and went searching for Lucien. It was getting late—weren’t we supposed to leave? The corridors stretched endlessly, and for a moment, I thought I’d lost my way. Just as unease began to creep in, I heard his voice. It led me to a study tucked at the end of the hall.

He stood by the window, his shirt sleeves rolled up, the firelight turning his skin to gold. A file lay open on the desk, papers scattered around. I was about to knock when I realized he was on the phone and it sounded urgent. 

“I don’t care what it costs,” he said into the phone. “I’ll find whoever did it and destroy them—her, her family, anyone.”