Stolen Heiress
"Whether any of it matters to what we're fighting now."
He turned away. Lucas pushed off the car, his eyes moving between us, reading something I couldn't see.
"We should go," Lucas said. "Before James sends someone to check if we followed."
Lucien nodded. But he didn't move immediately. He stood in the dark street, looking at the empty space where Marguerite had been.
"Get in the car," he said finally. "Both of you. We'll figure out the next move at the estate."
I got in. Lucas drove. And Lucien sat in the back seat, the photograph in his hand, the stitches in his arm pulling with every bump in the road, his eyes fixed on the dark city outside the window.
Bab Populer