Chapter 69 – Fire Beneath the Quiet
It had been four days since Lucian last had dinner at home.
The mansion didn't feel the same without the rhythm of his footsteps echoing faintly down the marble halls, or the deep timbre of his voice drifting through the rooms when he was on a call. The silence stretched, heavy and lonely, until even the ticking of the old clock on the wall began to sound impatient.
I told myself it didn't matter.
That he was just… busy.
That I shouldn't notice when he wasn't around.
But I did. I noticed everything.
The untouched side of the couch where he used to sit.
The way his office door remained closed, cold.
The absence of his faint cologne that usually lingered near the staircase cedarwood and something darker, something I could never name.
It was ridiculous, how I caught myself looking toward the main door whenever I heard a footsteps, like I was waiting for someone. Like I was waiting for him.
