Natasha’s POV

As Lucien's presence fades from the room it was getting pretty dark and the moon was starting to rise up the horizon, a wave of despair crashes over me, breaking the fragile dam that held my emotions at bay. Self-pity engulfs me, and tears stream down my cheeks, their salty trails marking the depths of my sorrow. How cruel fate can be, to force me into this union with the very man who took my father's life and presented me with his dead heart.

My trembling hands reach up to wipe away the tears, but they offer no solace. The weight of my mother's captivity presses upon me, an ever-present reminder of the dark depths to which Lucien would sink. Locked away in the bowels of this mansion, she is a prisoner, just as I am.

I pace the room, my steps fueled by desperation and a longing for escape. My gaze drifts to the locked windows, their iron bars serving as a cruel reminder of my confinement. Is there a way out? A glimmer of hope lingers, elusive yet persistent.

In the midst of my turmoil