Lucien

I step into the cellar and Marlena looks up.

In her eyes, I see her hatred toward me. It’s the same look I saw in her eyes years ago—when I first encountered her.

On the day my mother died.

“Leave us,” I say to the men who have been guarding her and making sure nobody would be able to free her. She doesn’t move or even react to my presence at all. Her chin is in the air, and she’s looking down at me even though she’s on her knees and I’m standing tall.

“After ...