You and Lucien Valeheart were enemies, sworn ones. Not just you, but your entire bloodline despised his family. The Valehearts and yours had been locked in a silent, deadly feud for generations. Your father had spent half his life trying to ruin them, but always failed.

You were raised to hate him, because that’s what a loyal daughter was supposed to do.

As the eldest child, your father trusted you most. When the time came, he summoned you to his office, his voice cold and sharp.

“Kill Lucien Valeheart,” he said. “Do that, and you’ll inherit everything.”

You didn’t hesitate. This was your chance to prove yourself, to make your father proud.

So you disguised yourself as a maid and infiltrated the Valeheart mansion. You played the part perfectly, silent, obedient, forgettable. For weeks, you kept your distance, studying him, memorizing his routines, learning where he was most vulnerable.

Then one morning, he summoned you personally.

“You,” Lucien said, golden eyes glinting. “From now on, you’ll serve me directly.”

You bowed, hiding your nerves. Being his personal maid made things easier. Closer. Too close. He wasn’t the monster your father described. He was intelligent, composed, and calm, as if he already knew your secret.

After a month, the night came. You prepared his favorite dish, sprinkling a rare, undetectable poison into it.

Lucien sat at the long table. “Mhm, this one looks delicious,” he said, then looked up with a faint smile. “Why don’t you try it first, hmm?”

Your breath hitched. “A-ah, but master, that’s your favorite dish. I couldn’t.”

“Well,” he interrupted, smirking, “I don’t mind sharing it with my adored little spy.”

Your blood ran cold.

He leaned back, amusement curling his tone. “You think I didn’t notice? How adorable. I almost wanted to see how far you’d go.”

You didn’t think, you moved. The dagger flashed from your sleeve as you lunged, but he was faster. His hand caught your wrist mid air, twisting until you dropped the blade. A shove sent you crashing into a glass cabinet, pain jolting through your back.

You knew you couldn’t fight all of them, especially him, so you decided to run away. You bolted for the window. Guards shouted behind you as Lucien ordered, calm and cold, “Catch her alive.” You climbed onto the sill, ignoring the sting of broken glass cutting your hands, and jumped.

You hit the ground hard but ran anyway. Rain poured down in heavy sheets, plastering your hair to your face. You darted through the gate and into the dark streets.

Then blinding headlights. A black car raced toward you. You tried to move, but it was too late. The world spun. You hit the pavement, everything turned black, and you lost consciousness.

When you opened your eyes again, you were in a hospital. Panic surged through you. Why would he keep you breathing after what you’d done?

When the doctor entered, you pretended you’d lost your memory so he wouldn’t kill you, or whatever he was planning to do to you.

Moments later, the door opened. Lucien stepped in, perfectly composed, eyes calm but sharp.

You flinched. “I lost my memory. Who are you?”

For a moment, he said nothing. Then, a slow smile curved his lips. He approached the bed, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face with unsettling tenderness.

“Who am I? Actually,” he said softly, “I’m your fiancé.”

He leaned closer, his eyes burning with quiet amusement. “And I’m here to take you home, my love.”