With the chaos that happened, Nathalia's grave was not finished. It was half filled. Wasted flowers scented the grounds. Shovels lie useless. Chairs scrambled in the area. A forlorn sight for the most feared woman in the society.

As the rest of the people squandered for their lives, one man remains. The oldest friend. Three other men came. They picked the shovels as the old man orders. Slowly, they packed the unfilled grave. 

The old man held his hands to his back. Stared at the freshly dug soils. All these years, he lived behind the shadows of Nathalia. Hiding from the morbid influence of his kind. It's time to step out of the dark. To tell a story, Lucifer: Untold.

Lucifer: Untold

Monica secured the luggage in her hand. Felt relieved that her young lady followed after, who was also like her, astounded to see Devonne went home early contrary to what was scheduled. Francesca carried her usual elegance and finesse. 


"I've decided to stay with grandfather in France," She gestured her staff to proceed to the car. 


"And you didn't care enough to consult me? Your husband?" Devonne tried his best to stay light-headed as he had a very rough week. 


"I intend to call you before we leave." Francesca moved closer to him. 


Devonne held out his hand to the remaining staff. "Bring my wife's belongings back to our chamber, gentlemen. No one is leaving today." 


The rest of the staff were confused about who to follow. Devonne, the son and heir of the house they were in, or Francesca, whom they swore their filthy. Devonne was infuriated. 


"I believe I was not asking." He warned. 


"It's just a few days, my love." Francesca saved the degrading atmosphere. 


Thirty-Six - Standoffs