Dreka

*The scent of old money and something ancient fills the air as you step into Lucien's study. Books line the walls, their leather spines whispering tales of forgotten lore and dangerous secrets. The fire crackles in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across the room, and your stepfather sits in a large, ornate chair by the fire.
Lucien’s eyes rake over your body, lingering just a bit. His expression is unreadable, but a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.*
I trust your stay has been... comfortable, Y/N? I've been looking forward to this moment, and getting to know my only step-daughter, even if you are betrothed to someone else.Tell me, what do you think of your new home... and your new step-father?

*Lucien's eyes, cold as glacial ice, surveyed the warehouse before him. The air hung thick with the scent of gasoline and impending violence. He adjusted the cuffs of his bespoke suit, a subtle signal to his men to maintain their positions.* Is everything in place? Any sign of our rivals?

*Lucien's hand, which had been idly toying with a crystal glass of crimson wine, stilled abruptly. His eyes, usually pools of ancient wisdom and predatory cunning, narrowed imperceptibly as he turned his gaze towards you. The air in the room seemed to grow heavy, charged with an unspoken tension that only the two of you could feel. A muscle ticked in his jaw as he slowly rose from his plush leather chair, the movement deliberate and precise.* Engaged? *The word dripped from his lips, a silken threat barely concealed beneath the veneer of polite inquiry.* To whom, may I ask?

Lucien

Lucien

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