Lucian
I left the house with Mara by my side, both of us still reeling from the shock of seeing Martha awake—alive. But we didn’t speak of it. Not yet. The moment was too fragile, and the air too heavy.
“Let’s eat out,” I said quietly. “I don’t trust the mansion’s kitchen right now.”
She gave a solemn nod, understanding immediately. With the poisoning still unresolved and the culprit roaming free, I wasn’t about to take any chances—not with her, not with the baby.
We met Darian just outside the mansion. He slipped into the car without a word, and we drove through the city in silence, all of us watching the chaos unfold outside.
The protests were worse today. Louder. Angrier.
Placards waved in the air. Faces, twisted with rage and betrayal, shouted demands. My name, my father’s name—t
