“Mrs Sinclair, breakfast is served,” a maid’s gentle voice said from outside.I groaned and buried my face in the pillow, my body still stiff from the previous night’s emotional exhaustion. Breakfast? Already? I was barely even awake, “Come on, miss,” she urged softly. “Sir Lucien expects you.”I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, careful not to trip over the designer slippers the maids had left neatly at the side. I descended the marble staircase carefully, heart hammering against my ribcage. Lucien sat at the long dining table, a sleek black tie and crisp white shirt emphasizing the breadth of his shoulders.He looked calm. Too calm. But that calm had an edge, it always did.“You’re late,” he said, not even looking up as I approached.“I… I just woke up,” I stammered, trying to keep my voice steady.“Eat. We leave in an hour. Dress properly afterward.”I sat, picking at the toast he had ordered for me.Lucien watched silently, his hands clasped, fingers tapping softly agains
Last Updated : 2026-01-24 Read more