CHAPTER 2
The Viremont estate was quiet in a way that felt deliberate.
Every hallway muted, every footstep absorbed, every shadow watching.
Seraphina was given a bedroom bigger than most peoples homes, silk sheets, locked windows, a wardrobe filled overnight with clothing she didn’t recognize.
He had measured her without touching her, and that unsettled her more than anything.
She didn’t see Lucien until the second night. He was in the office, dim light spilling across shelves of leather bound books, a whiskey glass untouched on the desk. He didn’t look up when she entered.
“You’re not a prisoner,” he said calmly, the door clicking closed behind her.
“What do you call this?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
“A debt being repaid,” he replied, voice smooth and controlled.
Later that night, she discovered a locked drawer in her assigned desk.
Inside was a photograph of her father, Lucien’s father, and three other men smiling, arms around each other like friends or partners.
She realized quickly that something didn’t add up.
If her father owed money, why did he look like he belonged there?
Upstairs, Lucien stood outside her door. He had heard her drawer open. He knew she’d find it. He let her, because he wanted to see what she would do.