Run: 2026-02-19-01KHT0N3FBTEDJEE673A4EBAZN

The door creaked open, and a sliver of cold air cut through the warmth of Eva's flat. Rory, huddled in the armchair by the fireplace, looked up from the stack of dusty tomes and raised an eyebrow. She'd been expecting her friend to arrive any minute, not Lucien Moreau, the last person she'd wanted to see again. "Lucien," Rory said flatly, her eyes narrowing as he stepped inside. His tailored charcoal suit seemed out of place in the cluttered flat, and the amber eye sparkled with a hint of mischief. "Rory," he replied, his voice low and smooth as silk. His gaze swept the room, lingering on the scattered scrolls and stacks of books before coming to rest on her. For a moment, they simply stared at each other, the air thick with unspoken words. Rory's fingers tightened around the worn spine of the book in her lap, a sudden urge to slam it shut and distance herself from the memories that lingered. But she forced herself to remain still, her voice level as she said, "What brings you here?" Lucien's lips curled into a wry smile as he closed the door behind him, the sound of the latch clicking into place a deliberate punctuation mark. "I could ask you the same, Rory. It's been a while." "A while?" Rory echoed, her tone dry. "Try years. You don't exactly ring doorbells or send postcards." His chuckle was low and throaty, sending a shiver down her spine. "I've been busy, darling. Besides, I didn't exactly part on the best terms with you, did I?" His eyes sparkled with a hint of apology, but his tone remained light, a verbal veil for the deeper emotions that simmered beneath. Rory's expression remained impassive, but her eyes flashed with a warning. "Let's not dwell on the past, Lucien. What do you want?" He sauntered deeper into the flat, his cane thumping softly against the floorboards. Ptolemy, Eva's tabby cat, watched him with an unblinking gaze from the windowsill, tail twitching. "I'm not here for small talk, Rory. I need a favor." Rory's gaze narrowed, her mind racing with possibilities. She knew better than to trust Lucien without a second thought, but there was something about his tone that hinted at a deeper urgency. "What kind of favor?" Lucien halted in front of the fireplace, his eyes locked on hers. "I've got a situation that requires your... unique skills. And I'm willing to pay top dollar for your time." Rory raised an eyebrow, her fingers drumming a staccato rhythm on the armchair's worn cushion. "What makes you think I'm interested?" A fleeting glance at the stack of books on her lap, the dusty tomes a testament to her current project, was all the answer she needed. Lucien's smile was a thin-lipped thing, but his eyes sparkled with understanding. "Because, Rory, I know you. And I know you're broke." The silence that followed was a palpable thing, heavy with unspoken words and unresolved tensions. Rory's eyes dropped to the book in her lap, her fingers tightening around the worn cover as she tried to recall the last time she'd spoken to Lucien. The pain and the anger still lingered, a festering wound that refused to heal. "Fine," she said finally, her voice a carefully calibrated compromise between wariness and curiosity. "What's this situation, and how much am I getting paid?" A hint of a smile played on Lucien's lips as he nodded, the gesture a concession. "Twenty thousand pounds, plus expenses. And if you take the job, we'll be working together for the next week. Maybe longer." Rory's eyebrows shot up, the offer more than generous. "Twenty thousand? You must be desperate." His chuckle was low and smooth, but his eyes held a glint of steel. "Desperate enough to pay top dollar for your time, yes. Now, will you hear me out, or do I need to take my business elsewhere?" The air was thick with tension as Rory hesitated, her mind racing with the possibilities. Twenty thousand pounds was a sum she could easily use to pay off her debts, and Lucien's words hinted at something more... tantalizing. The promise of a challenge, of adventure, of finally breaking free from the shackles of her mundane life.