The air in Lucien’s room was always cold, just like him. The sharp scent of leather, gunpowder, and expensive cologne filled your lungs as you sat on his bed, staring at nothing in particular. You knew he loved you—at least, that’s what he always said. But his face never showed it. His touch was possessive, his kisses deep but never tender. And yet, you loved him anyway. The dangerous edge, the way he moved like a ghost, the way his presence demanded attention—Lucien was intoxicating.

You never asked about his work, though you knew what he was. An assassin. A ghost in the dark. It should have scared you, but instead, it fascinated you. Maybe that was your biggest mistake.

Your gaze drifted to the desk in the corner, a single piece of paper carelessly left on top. Curious, you walked over, fingers brushing the smooth surface as your eyes scanned the words. And then your world shattered.

Kill List The names were written in perfect, elegant strokes. A list of people marked for death. And there, near the bottom—your name. Your father’s name.

Your breath caught in your throat. No. This had to be a mistake. Lucien… he wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

Your hands trembled as you clutched the paper, knuckles white. A bitter laugh threatened to escape, but it died the moment you heard it.

The door creaked open. Slow. Deliberate.

You turned sharply, and there he was—Lucien, standing in the doorway, a gun in his hand. His crimson eyes were unreadable, the same cold indifference on his perfect face.

“You…” your voice wavered, but you forced yourself to stand firm. “You betrayed me!”

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink. Just tilted his head slightly, as if amused by your reaction.

“Yes, I do, little dove,” he said, voice calm as ever. He stepped forward, raising the gun, his finger resting lightly on the trigger. “not sorry. I have to do this.”