Selene gritted her teeth, hugging her arms tight around her body as though she could shield herself from the memory of his lips still ghosting over hers. Lucien’s voice replayed in her head, taunting, echoing—

“We’ll continue later, princess.”

She spat the word back under her breath. “Bastard.”

The room around her stretched like a cage—dark stone walls, velvet drapes, a faint trace of smoke that clung to the air. She couldn’t sit still. Pacing, barefoot against the polished floor, her mind reeled. She didn’t have to think twice to know Lucien Vale was dangerous. The attendants at the auction had whispered his name like a curse. Monster. Killer. The man who bought souls the way others bought wine.

And now he called her princess.

The thought made her stomach churn. She hissed, muttering, “Over my dead body.”

But when she pushed open the door and stepped into the corridor, she realized she hadn’t bothered to mark her way here. The endless arches and lantern-lit passages stretched into infinity. Left. Right. Hall after hall. She muttered another curse, shoving down the rising panic.

After what felt like eternity, the sound of low voices seeped into the corridor. Selene froze, heart hammering.

The noise came from a door left slightly ajar, a thin sliver of lamplight spilling into the hall. She crept closer, every step careful, palms damp.

She hesitated, then—unable to stop herself—she leaned in and peeked through the narrow gap.

Inside, shadows bent over a man kneeling on the floor. His face was swollen, blood trickling down his chin. Guards flanked him like wolves, their grips iron on his arms.

Lucien sat in a chair at the head of the room, one hand wrapped lazily around a glass of whiskey. His expression was calm—too calm—as though the sight of the broken man before him was nothing more than an evening’s entertainment.

“We caught him sneaking near the vault.” A voice informed.

Her blood chilled.

Lucien’s hum followed, smooth, careless. She imagined him lounging back in a chair, glass in hand, as though he hadn’t just interrupted a kiss that had left her shaking.

Another voice—strained, pained. “L-Let me go. My boss will come for your head if you touch me!”

Selene stiffened. Whoever this man was, he sounded terrified.

Lucien’s reply dripped with mockery. “Oh? That’s what you want to say to me? I should be afraid of your boss? You interrupted my precious time with my woman. Do you know what that makes me? Pissed.”

Selene’s stomach lurched. “His woman…” The audacity of it almost made her gag. She hissed under her breath, “I am not your woman. I’ll end you before that happens.”

The captive gave a raspy laugh, even as pain cracked his words. “So it’s true. You’ve got yourself another toy. She won’t last a day, Vale. Hand her over to my boss. He’ll take care of her more than you ever will.”

Selene froze. Her heart hammered. “He was talking about m-me?”.

Inside, Lucien chuckled softly, a sound like sharpened steel sliding free. She pictured that lazy, terrifying smile as he rose to his feet.

“Were you blind? Dumb? Or just suicidal?” His voice dropped, lethal. “Your boss should’ve thought twice before crossing me. Instead, he sent a dog into my home. And you—” Selene heard the scrape of a chair, the shift of boots on stone. “—you dared to threaten me.”

A command snapped in Italian. Two men seized the intruder, shoving him against a wooden board.

Selene pressed her palm to her racing chest. She should run. She should go back. But her feet stayed rooted as though some dark force pulled her closer.

Lucien’s steps moved across the room, slow, deliberate. Then a metallic clink—the sound of something lifted from a table.

A pause. His voice came smooth, cruel. “And sadly, I don’t like being threatened.”

A whistle of air.

A sickening thunk.

Silence.

Selene’s blood iced over. Her vision swam. Her hand flew to her mouth just as bile surged. A dart—no, a giant pin—straight through the man’s forehead.

The body slumped. The room fell quiet, except for the faint drip of blood hitting the floor.

Her breath caught. A scream pressed at her throat, but she smothered it with her hand.

Too late.

Lucien’s chuckle rolled low across the chamber. His footsteps approached the doorway, unhurried.

“Princess,” he drawled, his voice wrapping around her like smoke, “didn’t your parents ever teach you that eavesdropping is a bad habit?”

Selene staggered back, her spine slamming into cold stone. Her legs trembled, refusing to obey her silent pleas to run. Panic clawed her throat raw.

Lucien’s shadow stretched first, then his frame filled the doorway. Bare chest, black trousers, eyes glinting like polished obsidian. He took in her trembling figure and smirked.

“My, oh my…” He stepped forward—

Her knees buckled.

Darkness crashed in.

—

Selene stirred to the sound of low voices, the rustle of sheets. Her lashes fluttered open, and dread struck like a whip. She was back in his room.

Lucien sat in the chair across from her, whiskey glass in hand, watching her like a hunter studying prey. His lips curved into something between amusement and disdain.

“You fainted,” he said dryly. “Not a good habit, princess. Passing out in moments like that—you’ll miss all the fun.”

Her breath hitched. Fury, sharper than fear, jolted her awake. She sat up, clutching a pillow to her chest. “Fun? You killed a man! In front of me!”

Lucien’s chuckle was low, dark. He rose slowly, uncoiling like a predator.

“Correction,” he said, closing the distance between them. “I eliminated a trespasser. He came into my home. He threatened me. I don’t tolerate threats. And besides, you were the one peeping.”

He reached for the pillow. She clung to it like armor, glaring at him through burning eyes. “Don’t come near me! You’re a monster!”

He shrugged, unimpressed. “Perhaps. But monsters survive. And you, you belong to this monster.”

His hand shot out, yanking the pillow away. The thin slip clung to her skin, translucent in the lamplight. She gasped, folding her arms across her chest, cheeks blazing.

Lucien leaned in, his breath brushing her ear. “That bastard suggested I hand you to his boss.” His hand traced lazy circles on her bare skin. “I don’t give away what belongs to me… not unless I tire of it.”

Selene flinched as his hand slid lower, pinching her nipple through the thin fabric. Heat stabbed through her, unwanted and humiliating. A moan slipped before she could stop it.

She bit down on her lip, snarling, “Let go of me!”

His chuckle vibrated against her skin. “Your mouth says no, princess. But your body?” His palm skimmed down her stomach, hovering at her thighs. “Your body says otherwise.”

Her throat locked. Her breath stuttered. Hatred and something far darker warred inside her.

Then, abruptly, he released her. His grin was sharp, merciless. “Damn. I’m going to have a lot of fun with you.”

Before she could recoil, he seized her wrist and hauled her up from the bed. She clawed at his grip. “Let me go!”

She sank her teeth into his arm, hard, tasting iron.

Lucien barely flinched. Blood welled, but instead of pushing her away, he laughed. A low, dangerous sound. In one motion, he flung her over his shoulder, carrying her like a prize.

Her fists pounded his back. “Put me down, you bastard!”

He didn’t budge. His boots echoed through the corridors until they descended into the vast living room. At last, he set her down.

“Look who decided to drop by,” he murmured.

Selene straightened, tugging the slip around her body, trying to cover herself. Then she froze.

Blood. Bruises. Chains.

Her brother.

“Jason…” Her voice cracked, soft as a prayer.

Jason whimpered, blood dripping from his split lip. “S-Selene… help me. Please…”

Her heart jolted, but then the rage came crashing in, hotter than fire.

“Help you?” she spat, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. Her hands shook, not from fear but fury. “You sold me, Jason! To a fucking slave house! For twenty grand! You even stole the five hundred I scraped together for rent, and then you vanished!”

Jason’s eyes widened with shame. “I… I had no choice! I needed the money to find them—our parents—”

“Don’t you dare,” Selene cut him off, her voice breaking on the edge of a sob. “Don’t you dare use them as an excuse.” Her nails dug into her palms until blood bloomed crescent moons on her skin. “You’d sell your own sister for people that abandoned us?” She couldn’t bear to tell her brother that they had been long dead.

Jason shook his head violently, tears streaming. “I thought… I thought they were still out there! I couldn’t survive without trying!” His voice cracked. “I never meant for you to—”

Selene’s laugh snapped, raw and brittle. “Never meant for me to what? To be stripped, chained, humiliated? To be sold like cattle?” She took a shaky step forward, pointing at him with trembling fingers. “Do you know what I’ve seen, Jason? Do you have any idea what they do to girls in the Red District?”

Jason sobbed, “I’m sorry, Selene! I swear to God, I’m sorry!”

Her chest heaved. Her fury warred with grief until it hollowed her out. “You’re my brother. My blood. And you sold me anyway.”

Lucien’s voice slid in like a blade, low and mocking. “See, princess? Your beloved brother wasn’t protecting you. He was trading you.”

Jason snarled at him, broken but defiant. “Shut the hell up! Don’t touch her!”

Lucien ignored him, his gaze fixed on Selene, feeding on her torment. “Tell me, Selene. Do you still see him as family?” He leaned closer, whispering near her ear. “Or just another man who put a price on you?”

Selene’s throat locked. The tears she’d been holding back finally slipped free. She shook her head, whispering, “I don’t know… I don’t know anymore.”

Jason’s desperate voice ripped through the air. “You do know! You know I love you! I only wanted to save us—I swear—”

But Selene screamed over him, voice ragged: “You destroyed me, Jason! After every fucking thing I did for you! For us!”

Silence crashed. Jason flinched as though she’d struck him. Lucien smirked, savoring every second.

That’s when Lucien snapped his fingers, and the tray with the dagger and gun appeared. Lucien took the dagger first, running its edge slowly against Selene’s neck. Her breath caught, a thin line of blood welling where the blade kissed her skin. Jason roared, struggling against his captors.

“Don’t you dare hurt my sister!”

Lucien’s smile was sharp enough to cut glass. “Your sister?” His gaze burned into Jason. “She doesn’t look like your sister when she wears my collar. I bought her. She’s mine. My property.”

Selene trembled, fury and fear twisting together.

Jason thrashed, earning a brutal punch to his gut. He doubled over, coughing blood. Selene jerked instinctively, the motion slicing her skin further along the blade.

Lucien didn’t so much as glance at the wound. His eyes stayed fixed on her, black and merciless.

“So,” he murmured, voice silk and venom, “what will it be?”

The tray was lifted higher. Dagger. Gun. Gleaming under the lantern light.

Lucien pressed closer, his free hand pinning her waist. His breath ghosted her ear. “Will you kill your brother yourself, princess? Or shall I do it for you?”

Selene’s heart slammed against her ribs. Jason’s broken voice called her name, raw with pleading.

She swallowed hard, torn between blood and survival, rage and love. Her hand trembled, hovering near the tray as the dagger gleamed.

Lucien’s whisper cut through the silence. “Choose.”