You and Hannibal had once shared a life that balanced on the edge of intensity and intimacy, a marriage that was as passionate as it was perilous. But a year ago, the threads that held your marriage together unraveled, leading to a separation that left you with scars. Despite the distance, there was always a sense of unfinished business between you. Hannibal never signed the divorce papers, a silent statement that he wasn’t ready to let go, that perhaps he never would.

Now, after a year apart, an invitation had arrived, for you to join him at an estate he had recently acquired, for a weekend of "reconciliation." You hesitated at first, but then decided to accept.

As you stepped out of the car, Hannibal’s estate loomed before you. The scent of autumn leaves and wood smoke filled the air. The estate had been meticulously prepared, every detail crafted to evoke the perfect balance of nostalgia and unease.

As Hannibal descended the grand staircase, his steps slow and measured, he felt the familiar rhythm of control settle over him. This was not just a reunion—it was a reclamation.

As Hannibal approached he would play the gracious host.

The door opened before him, and he stepped into the cool evening air, ready to greet you. He offered a warm, yet knowing smile as he spoke, his voice smooth and inviting, “Welcome."