CHAPTER 55: SHADOWS AND BARGAINS

Genevieve’s POV

​I didn't bother knocking. I simply pushed open the heavy mahogany doors to Leo’s private study and strode inside like I owned the place.

​Leo was sitting at his easel, shirtless, a smudge of dark charcoal dusting his collarbone. He froze, paintbrush suspended in mid-air, and glared at me over his shoulder with sheer annoyance.

​"Have you no bloody manners, Genevieve?" he snapped, grabbing a discarded tunic off the back of his chair and throwing it over his head.

​I leaned against the doorframe, folding my arms with a sly, triumphant smile. "Well, I used to... until I saw what you were trying to do with your brother's wife in the garden yesterday."

​Leo’s jaw tightened, his hazel eyes darkening instantly. "Are you going to keep dragging that out?"

​"I need a favor from you," I said, dropping the smug act and taking a step toward his desk.

​Leo let out a dry, bitter laugh, adjusting his shirt. "A favor? And why on earth would I do you a favor?"

​"Because you have no choice," I replied softly, my tone shifting from playful to deadly serious. "And because I need you to pretend like we are in love."

​Leo blinked, staring at me for a beat before a sudden, burst of laughter escaped his lips. "I am flattered, Gen, truly. But you are not my type."

​"I am not joking, Leo!" I interjected, my voice rising with a rare flash of genuine panic. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing pulse. "Now that your father is hosting a grand gala to celebrate your mother’s pregnancy, my parents will be attending. They are going to spend the entire evening berating me for not being married this season. They are already threatening to arrange a match between me and some old, dreadful lord—a man your father’s age."

​I took a step closer, my eyes pleading. "I cannot marry an old man, Leo. I won't. I just need you to pretend we are courting—just for the gala. If my parents see that I have secured the attention of a De Witt, they will drop the matter. You know I could never connect with Lucian, but you and I... we can at least fake a decent dynamic."

​Leo stared at me, his eyes searching my face as he weighed the sheer absurdity of the request. "That is a massive favor you are asking for, Gen."

​"I know," I whispered, holding my breath. "Please, Leo. Just for the night. I promise you, after the gala, I won't press you further."

​A long, agonizing silence hung in the air between us before Leo finally let out a heavy, defeated sigh. "Fine. Just for the night."

​A wave of pure relief washed over me. "Thank you! Oh, thank you, Leo!"

​I turned to leave, but my eyes caught the large canvas resting on his easel. My gaze narrowed as I took in the soft, sweeping brushstrokes—the delicate curve of a jawline, long eyelashes, and dark, expressive eyes that were far too familiar.

​"Are you... painting Eva?" I asked, a smirk tugging at my lips.

​Leo instantly grabbed a velvet sheet from the table and whipped it over the canvas, his cheeks flushing dark red. "What?! No! What on earth are you talking about? Get out, Gen!"

​"Alright, alright!" I laughed, shaking my head as I backed out of his study into the quiet hallway.

​God help him, I thought to myself, a wry smile spreading across my face as I walked down the corridor. The poor boy has got it so terribly, utterly bad for her.

Lucian’s POV

​I rode under the cover of dusk, keeping off the main roads until I reached the secluded cottage on the edge of the estate. Now that I was a married man, coming to see Bella required a layer of quiet discretion that grated on my pride.

​I slipped inside, shutting the heavy wooden door behind me. Before the latch had even clicked, Bella was in my space, her warm hands sliding up my chest and unbuttoning my shirt. Her lips pressed against my collarbone, soft and insistent, trailing up the sensitive line of my neck.

​"I missed you," she whispered against my skin.

​For a brief, fleeting moment, the familiarity of it coaxed a quiet breath from my chest. She was my first, after all, and there were times when sharing a bed with her offered a dark, familiar escape from the crushing weight of my title. But tonight, my mind was far too crowded with ghosts.

​"Wait," I muttered, gently taking her by the wrists and setting her back. "I need a minute. I need to discuss something with you."

​Bella paused, her soft, dark eyes searching my face with immediate concern. "What is wrong, Lucian? What's going on?"

​"I fell into a trance last night," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "A full collapse."

​Bella gasped, her hand flying to her chest. "Oh, my sweet Lord... oh, heavens! Lucian! Did you tell your mother?"

​I scoffed bitterly. "What sort of ridiculous question is that? You know I cannot tell her. I cannot afford to have anyone in that house looking at me like a broken liability."

​"Then what are we going to do?" she pressed, her voice trembling with anxiety. "Have you summoned the physician?"

​"I sent a trusted messenger to him this morning," I replied, running a heavy hand over my face. "I am waiting for his reply."

​Without another word, Bella wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me tight against her chest. "Oh, my darling... my sweet heart," she murmured softly into my shoulder. "I am so, so sorry that happened to you. I am sorry I wasn't there to hold you."

​I wrapped my arms around her waist, burying my face into her hair and forcing a tight, invisible smile in the dark.

​Every word out of her mouth was a sickening display of sympathy. She held me with such tender, agonized care—acting as though she hadn't been the very architect of my ruin. She carried on as if she wasn't the sole reason these terrifying trances had begun in my childhood in the first place.

​She truly believed the past was buried. She thought I had forgotten what she did to me, that time and dark affection had erased her sin from my mind.

​I let her hold me, feeling the quiet, dangerous heat of my own fury burning beneath my ribs. Let her believe I am oblivious, I thought, staring coldly at the shadowy wall behind her. Let her think the secret died years ago.

​I couldn't afford to break the illusion—not yet.