Lucian stood a few feet away under the shade of one of the stone arches, dressed in a crisp white shirt with the sleeves buttoned neatly at the wrists, dark trousers, and that same maddening expressionless face that made him look like a villain.I blinked. Then frowned.“How long have you been standing there?”“Long enough.”Of course. He monitored me like heck. I folded my arms. “You seriously locked the garden gate?”Lucian stepped forward, unhurried. “It’s called planning.”“No, it’s called being a psychopath.”His eyes moved over me calmly.“You’re trying to leave the property.”“So?”“So,” he said evenly, “you’re grounded.”“I know what grounded means,” I snapped. “You’ve repeated it enough.”Lucian came to a stop in front of me. Not too close, just close enough to make me aware of his height, his stillness, and the way he never seemed to waste movement.“You keep testing limits you already understand,” he said.I laughed bitterly.“And you keep acting like this place belongs to
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