AI ---
The door swung open with a groan of rusted hinges, splintering the quiet of the flat above Silas’ bar. A gust of cold air—mixed with the faint, acrid tang of rain-slicked pavement—whipped through the threshold, carrying with it the scent of something sharp and unfamiliar. A man stood there, his silhouette stark against the dim glow of the streetlamp outside. Tall, unnervingly still, his platinum blond hair slicked back like he’d just stepped out of a tailor’s shop instead of a night that had gone sideways.
Aurora’s breath hitched. She didn’t turn around. She couldn’t. Not yet.
“You’re late,” she said, her voice steady, but her fingers tightened around the knife she’d been sharpening on the counter. The blade caught the light, reflecting back at her like a challenge.
The man—*Lucien *—didn’t move. Didn’t smile. Just tilted his head, amber eye catching the dim light first, then black, like a predator sizing up prey. “I’m never late for a job.”
The words hung between them, heavy with something unsaid. A job. Right. Like this was business. Like she wasn’t standing here with her pulse hammering in her throat, her skin prickling with the memory of his touch—his *teeth *—the last time she’d seen him.
She exhaled through her nose, a sound that was almost a laugh. “You’re not here for the delivery.”
“No.” His cane tapped once against the floor, the ivory handle gleaming under the flickering bulb. “I’m here for you.”
Aurora’s grip on the knife loosened just enough to make her wince. She set it down on the counter with a *clink *, the sound too loud in the sudden silence . “Then you’ve come to the wrong place.”
His lips quirked, just once, but it was enough. Enough to make her stomach twist. “Have I?”
She turned then, slow, deliberate. The flat was smaller than she remembered, the air thick with the scent of takeaway containers and the faint metallic tang of blood—*her * blood, from the last time she’d cut herself here, trying to forget. Lucien ’s gaze flicked to the scar on her wrist, the crescent-shaped mark from the accident she’d never told anyone about. Not even Eva.
“You look like hell,” he said.
“And you look like you’ve been sleeping in a coffin,” she shot back, though her voice lacked its usual bite. The words tasted bitter on her tongue.
Lucien stepped inside, his coat brushing against the doorframe. The scent of him—leather and something darker, something like old books and gunpowder—filled the space between them. “I’ve been busy.”
“So have I.”
A beat. Then, from the hallway, the unmistakable *thump * of Ptolemy’s tail against the wall. The tabby cat’s green eyes narrowed as he slinked into the room, tail flicking. He didn’t like Lucien . No one did.
“Your cat has a thing for me,” Lucien observed, crouching to scratch behind Ptolemy’s ears. The cat hissed, but didn’t retreat. “Or maybe it’s just your scent on him.”
Aurora’s jaw tightened. “He’s not mine.”
“No?” Lucien stood, straightening with a slow, deliberate grace. “Then whose is he?”
“Eva’s.”
Lucien ’s gaze snapped to her . “Eva’s?”
Aurora crossed her arms, her fingers digging into her sleeves. “She’s been keeping him.”
Lucien ’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered in his eyes—amusement? Irritation? “Eva’s flat’s a warzone. That cat wouldn’t survive.”
“She’s got a greenhouse. He’s got a name.”
“Ptolemy, huh?” Lucien hummed, rubbing his chin. “Fitting.”
Aurora ignored the way her pulse jumped at the sound of his voice, low and smooth as whiskey. “Why are you here, Lucien ?”
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he walked to the window, pulling back the curtain just enough to let in a sliver of light. The rain had stopped, but the streets below were slick, the neon signs of Brick Lane flickering like dying stars. “I need your help.”
“With what?”
His shoulders tensed. “A job.”
Aurora laughed, sharp and humorless. “You’re not the kind of man who does jobs.”
Lucien turned, his black eye locked onto hers. “I’m the kind of man who gets things done.”
“And I’m the kind of woman who doesn’t get mixed up in other people’s messes.”
He stepped closer, close enough that she could see the faint scar along his jawline, the one she’d given him. “This isn’t about messes.”
Aurora’s breath caught. She knew that scar . Knew the story behind it—how he’d laughed when she’d done it, how he’d kissed it better later, his lips warm against her skin. “Then what is it about?”
“A woman.” Lucien ’s voice dropped, rough with something she didn’t recognize—something like respect, maybe . “She’s in trouble. And I need someone who knows how to get into places I can’t.”
Aurora’s stomach twisted. “And why me?”
“Because you’re the only one who can do it.”
She wanted to argue. Wanted to tell him to go to hell, that she didn’t owe him anything, that she’d moved on—*she had *. But the way he looked at her , like he was seeing her for the first time in years, made her knees weak. “What’s her name?”
“Malphora.”
Aurora’s breath hitched. *Malphora.* That was her name. The one she’d used when she’d been running, when she’d needed to disappear. The one she’d buried deep, the one she’d never told Lucien .
Lucien ’s gaze flicked to her scar again, then back to her eyes. “You remember.”
She swallowed. “I remember.”
A silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. Then, from the hallway, Eva’s voice—sharp, urgent—cut through the tension .
“Rory? You decent?”
Aurora’s head snapped toward the door. “Shit.”
Lucien ’s lips twitched. “She’s here.”
Aurora didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. The way Lucien ’s eyes crinkled at the corners, the way his cane tapped against the floor—he knew exactly what she was thinking .
Eva’s voice came again, louder this time. “Rory? Open up.”
Aurora turned, grabbing a jacket from the back of the chair. “You’re not leaving.”
Lucien ’s voice was smooth, unhurried. “I’ll wait.”
She didn’t look back. She didn’t have to. She could feel him watching her , could feel the weight of his presence like a shadow on her skin.
The door swung open before she could reach it, and Eva stood there, her dark hair wild, her eyes wide with concern. “What the hell are you doing back here? I’ve been trying to call you for *hours *.”
Aurora stepped aside, letting Eva rush into the flat. “Long story.”
Eva’s gaze flicked to Lucien , then back to Aurora’s face. “Who’s this?”
Aurora exhaled, rubbing her temples. “A friend .”
Eva’s eyebrows shot up. “A *friend *?”
Aurora didn’t meet her eyes. “He’s here about Malphora.”
Eva’s breath caught. “Oh.”
Lucien stepped forward, extending a hand. “Lucien Moreau.”
Eva took it, her grip firm. “Eva Carter.”
Aurora watched them, her stomach twisting. She knew this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
Eva pulled her hand back, her expression unreadable . “So. Malphora.”
Aurora turned, her voice low. “We need to talk.”
Eva nodded, but her gaze was still on Lucien . “After.”
Aurora didn’t argue. She didn’t have to. She knew Eva well enough to know when she was being dismissed .
Lucien watched them go, his cane tapping against the floor. Then, when the door had closed behind them, he turned back to Aurora, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re still wearing that scar.”
Aurora’s fingers twitched. “It’s not a scar.”
“It’s a brand.”
She didn’t answer. She couldn’t.
Lucien stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper . “You should’ve told me.”
Aurora’s breath hitched. “I didn’t know.”
“You should’ve known.”
She looked away, her heart pounding in her chest. “I did.”
Lucien ’s hand shot out, gripping her wrist, his fingers warm against her skin. “Liar.”
Aurora’s breath caught. She wanted to pull away. She wanted to scream. But she didn’t. She just stood there, her pulse hammering in her throat, her body betraying her with a shiver.
Lucien ’s thumb traced the scar, his touch gentle, almost reverent. “You were always the best liar I’ve ever known.”
Aurora’s eyes burned. She wanted to tell him to stop. She wanted to tell him she was sorry. But the words stuck in her throat, tangled up in the past and the present and everything in between.
Lucien ’s gaze lifted to hers, his eyes dark and intense. “We need to talk.”
Aurora swallowed. “About what?”
“About Malphora.”
Aurora’s breath hitched. “And about us.”
Lucien ’s lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. “Always about us.”
Aurora’s heart pounded in her chest . She wanted to run. She wanted to stay. She wanted to scream and cry and never look back.
But she didn’t move. She just stood there, her body trembling, her heart racing , her soul aching with the weight of everything unsaid.
Lucien ’s hand fell away, his voice dropping to a whisper . “You should’ve told me.”
Aurora’s breath caught. “I did.”
Lucien ’s gaze locked onto hers, his eyes dark and intense. “No, you didn’t.”
Aurora’s eyes burned. She wanted to tell him to stop. She wanted to tell him she was sorry. But the words stuck in her throat, tangled up in the past and the present and everything in between.
Lucien ’s hand shot out, gripping her wrist, his fingers warm against her skin. “You were always the best liar I’ve ever known.”
Aurora’s breath hitched. She wanted to pull away. She wanted to scream. But she didn’t. She just stood there, her pulse hammering in her throat, her body betraying her with a shiver.
Lucien ’s thumb traced the scar, his touch gentle, almost reverent. “You were always the best liar I’ve ever known.”
Aurora’s eyes burned. She wanted to tell him to stop. She wanted to tell him she was sorry. But the words stuck in her throat, tangled up in the past and the present and everything in between.
Lucien ’s gaze lifted to hers, his eyes dark and intense. “We need to talk.”
Aurora’s breath hitched. “About what?”
“About Malphora.”
Aurora’s heart pounded in her chest . “And about us.”
Lucien ’s lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. “Always about us.”
Aurora’s fingers trembled . She wanted to run. She wanted to stay. She wanted to scream and cry and never look back.
But she didn’t move. She just stood there, her body trembling, her heart racing , her soul aching with the weight of everything unsaid.
Lucien ’s hand fell away, his voice dropping to a whisper . “You should’ve told me.”
Aurora’s breath caught. “I did.”
Lucien ’s gaze locked onto hers, his eyes dark and intense. “No, you didn’t.”
Aurora’s eyes burned. She wanted to tell him to stop. She wanted to tell him she was sorry. But the words stuck in her throat, tangled up in the past and the present and everything in between.
The door swung open again, and Eva stood there, her expression unreadable . “Rory? You decent?”
Aurora exhaled, rubbing her temples. “A friend .”
Eva’s eyebrows shot up. “A *friend *?”
Aurora didn’t meet her eyes. “He’s here about Malphora.”
Eva’s breath caught. “Oh.”
Lucien stepped forward, extending a hand. “Lucien Moreau.”
Eva took it, her grip firm. “Eva Carter.”
Aurora watched them, her stomach twisting. She knew this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
Eva pulled her hand back, her expression unreadable . “So. Malphora.”
Aurora turned, her voice low. “We need to talk.”
Eva nodded, but her gaze was still on Lucien . “After.”
Aurora didn’t argue. She didn’t have to. She knew Eva well enough to know when she was being dismissed .
Lucien watched them go, his cane tapping against the floor. Then, when the door had closed behind them, he turned back to Aurora, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re still wearing that scar.”
Aurora’s fingers twitched. “It’s not a scar.”
“It’s a brand.”
She didn’t answer. She couldn’t.
Lucien stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper . “You should’ve told me.”
Aurora’s breath hitched. “I didn’t know.”
“You should’ve known.”
She looked away, her heart pounding in her chest. “I did.”
Lucien ’s hand shot out, gripping her wrist, his fingers warm against her skin. “Liar.”
Aurora’s breath caught. She wanted to pull away. She wanted to scream. But she didn’t. She just stood there, her pulse hammering in her throat, her body betraying her with a shiver.
Lucien ’s thumb traced the scar, his touch gentle, almost reverent. “You were always the best liar I’ve ever known.”
Aurora’s eyes burned. She wanted to tell him to stop. She wanted to tell him she was sorry. But the words stuck in her throat, tangled up in the past and the present and everything in between.
Lucien ’s gaze lifted to hers, his eyes dark and intense. “We need to talk.”
Aurora’s breath hitched. “About what?”
“About Malphora.”
Aurora’s heart pounded in her chest . “And about us.”
Lucien ’s lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. “Always about us.”