Vortellion Estate. Midnight.
The moonlight slipped through the tall stained-glass windows of the Vortellion Estate, casting soft shadows across the floor of the second-largest bedroom in the mansion.
Velvet curtains swayed gently as a cold breeze crept in, brushing against the bare collarbones of... Julian Vortellion.
He stood in front of the wide window, a half-filled wine glass in hand, wearing nothing but a silk black robe tied loosely at his waist. The robe hung off one shoulder, his pale skin glowing under the silver light. His hair, nearly identical to Lucien's, shimmered like dark blood under the moon. But his expression was...different.
Still. Unblinking. Dangerous.
Behind him, near the bookshelf, Dorian stood quiet and ever loyal.
"Say that again," Julian said, swirling the glass. His voice was like honey... slow, smooth, but with a bitterness that stung the ears. "I was busy thinking that I didn't hear you properly,"
