They say time heals all wounds.
Whoever said that never loved someone like Lucien.
Aria Monroe had spent the last three years trying to bury his memory—distracting herself with work, wine, and the smile of a new man. A man who made her laugh again. A man who seemed safe.
Damien Blackwood was everything Lucien wasn't.
Mature. Successful. Patient.
He didn't ride a motorcycle or pick fights with fate. He wore expensive watches and used words like "future" and "stability." Aria had convinced herself that this was what she needed. That love didn't have to burn to be real.
But tonight, the illusion shattered.
"Did you really think I loved you?" Damien said, slowly sipping from a crystal glass like this was just another Thursday night.
Aria blinked at him, unsure if she heard it right. "What…?"
He set the glass down, eyes gleaming—not with affection, but calculation.
"This—us—it was always about your father's property. That estate is worth millions, Aria. You're just… the key."
Her mouth went dry. Her hands curled into fists.
"My father died before I was even born," she said. "I didn't even know him."
"Doesn't change what's yours," Damien replied coolly. "And what's mine once we're married."
A chill ran down her spine.
She took a step back. "You're insane."
"No, darling." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I'm just done pretending."
He moved suddenly—too fast. Something sharp gleamed in his hand.
Aria didn't even have time to scream.
Pain bloomed in her side. Her knees buckled. Her body hit the floor like a dropped marionette, and blood soaked through her blouse, warm and terrifying.
She looked up at him, betrayed. Broken.
Damien crouched beside her, brushing hair from her face with terrifying tenderness. "Don't worry. It'll be quick."
And then—
The room caught fire.
Not with smoke or heat—but energy.
The air crackled. The walls shimmered. A tear split the ceiling open like lightning cracking the sky—and from it, he stepped through.
Lucien.
His presence hit like a thunderclap.
Gone was the boy Aria remembered. This Lucien was taller, sharper, wrapped in black and red like war incarnate. His eyes glowed like embers, and shadows followed his every step.
"Miss me?" he asked, voice like velvet and venom.
Damien stood frozen, the blade slipping from his hand.
Lucien barely looked at him. Instead, he knelt beside Aria, gaze sweeping her torn blouse and bloodied skin.
"You always get yourself into the worst relationships."
She coughed, blood on her lips. "You're… dead."
He smirked. "Yeah. About that."
From inside his coat, he pulled out a scroll—sealed with a burning sigil.
"One signature. You live. But you come back with me."
"Back where?"
Lucien's smile faded. "Home."
She hesitated—until Damien took one step closer.
Without thinking, without breathing, she reached for the scroll and pressed her bloodied thumb to the flame.
The contract burned gold and vanished.
So did the world.
And when she woke—
She was lying on a familiar couch, wrapped in velvet and memories.
Lucien's house.