Lucian
I was just adjusting my cufflinks, getting ready for my date with Tina, when Austin, my butler, stepped into the room with his usual composed tone.
“Master Lucian, the boutique is here to deliver your bride’s clothes.”
My bride.
The words felt like gravel in my mouth every time I heard them.
I stood and walked into the master bedroom I’d had prepped for Mara. I’d never used it. It was larger, more extravagant, more central—but I’d always preferred the smaller room. Quieter. Less suffocating. But now, someone would finally be living here. Sleeping in a bed under this roof because she had no other choice.
“Have them arrange her things in the walk-in closet,” I said. “Move my things to the wardrobe, and put the rest of my stuff in storage. I don’t use most of it anyway.”
Austin
