Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMPD1ZJKPTFCKG15ZPRM6ZB

The door creaked, its hinges protesting the sudden turn of the handle, as Rory's eyes darted from the scattered papers on her lap to the uninvited visitor on her threshold. Lucien Moreau stood poised, his platinum blond hair slicked back, revealing the sharp planes of his face. The faint glow of the setting sun behind him cast an otherworldly aura, but it was the piercing contrast of his eyes – one amber, like warm sunset hues, the other black as the night – that truly held her transfixed. For an instant, the air seemed to vibrate with the weight of unspoken words, the complications of their past hanging like a challenge between them. "Lucien," Rory acknowledged, her voice neutral, a deliberate shield against the turmoil his unexpected arrival stirred within her. She set aside the papers, her movements economical, and rose from the couch, her straight black hair falling around her shoulders like a curtain of night. The bright blue of her eyes, usually a window to her emotions, remained guarded, a lesson learned from past dealings with this man. Lucien's gaze, however, roamed freely, taking in the cluttered space of Eva's flat, his eyes lingering on the tabby cat, Ptolemy, who watched from the windowsill, tail twitching with curiosity. "Rory, or should I say, Aurora?" He stepped inside, his movements fluid, as he closed the door behind him, the sound of the three deadbolts engaging a reminder of the security, and the secrets, this flat harbored. "Rory's fine, Lucien. It's been...a while." She crossed her arms, a defensive gesture, as she leaned against the back of the sofa. The small crescent-shaped scar on her left wrist caught her eye, a habitual check, a reminder of vulnerabilities she preferred to keep hidden. "Yes, it has." Lucien's voice was smooth, tinged with the slightest hint of his Marseille upbringing, as he surveyed the room once more. His tailored charcoal suit seemed out of place among the clutter of books and scrolls, yet he wore it with an ease that belied the discomfort his presence caused Rory. "May I?" He gestured towards the couch, his hand resting on the head of his ivory-handled cane, a subtle reminder of the blade within, and the dangers his line of work often entailed. Rory nodded curtly, her thoughts racing with the implications of his visit. They had parted on complicated terms, the attraction between them palpable yet unexplored, tangled in a web of mistrust and the secrecy of his underworld dealings. "What brings you here, Lucien? After all this time, I hadn't expected—" "The courtesy of a warning, perhaps?" he interjected, his eyes glinting with amusement, as he settled into the couch, his long frame making the piece of furniture seem diminutive. "I've come on a matter of mutual interest, Rory. One that requires...delicacy." Ptolemy, seemingly bored with the tension, jumped down from the windowsill and padded towards Lucien, rubbing against his leg in a surprising display of affection. Lucien's smile, as he reached down to pet the cat, was genuine, a fleeting glimpse into a side of him Rory rarely saw. "Mutual interest?" Rory echoed, her curiosity piqued despite her better judgment. She moved to the armchair across from him, the distance a deliberate choice, a buffer against the pull of his presence. "I'm listening." Lucien's gaze met hers, the intensity of his stare a palpable thing. "Eva's research. Specifically, her recent...diversions. I believe you're aware of the sensitivities involved." Rory's guard rose, instinctively protective of her friend's endeavors. "What do you know of Eva's work?" "Enough to understand its potential impact," he replied, his voice measured. "And enough to recognize that certain parties are taking a keen interest. Parties that might not have Eva's, or your, best interests at heart." The room seemed to shrink, the shadows cast by the fading light outside deepening into ominous silhouettes. Rory felt the familiar spark of unease, a reminder of why she had left Cardiff in the first place – to escape the shadows that lurked, unseen, in every corner of her life. And now, with Lucien's words, those shadows seemed to be closing in once more. "Who?" The question was barely audible, her voice throttled by a mix of fear and determination. Lucien leaned forward, his eyes burning with an inner fire. "That, Rory, is what I propose we uncover together. For Eva's sake, and perhaps...for ours." In that moment, the past and present collided, the air thick with the promise of secrets, of danger, and of a forbidden attraction that neither time nor circumstance had diminished. Rory's heart thudded, a solitary beat, as she met Lucien's gaze, the unspoken understanding between them a spark ready to ignite into a fire that could either consume them, or set them free. "Yes," she said finally, the word a whisper, a commitment to a path that promised to alter the landscape of her life forever. "Together, then." Lucien's smile, a fleeting flash of triumph and something deeper, was all the acknowledgement she needed. As the first stars began to twinkle in the London sky, Rory and Lucien embarked on a journey, bound by shared secrets, shared danger, and a shared past that, once and for all, would have to be confronted.