Chapter 3: Meeting the family

Liora had barely slept when morning came, the weight of yesterday's revelations pressing heavily against her chest. She sat up in bed, her wrists still sore from the restraints they had used the night before. Her thoughts were a storm of anger and defiance, but underneath it all was the gnawing realization that she needed a plan. She couldn't let this so-called wedding happen. Whatever Lucian wanted from her, whatever his twisted reason was, she wouldn't let herself be used.

The sound of the door unlocking snapped her out of her thoughts. A servant entered, a woman with sharp features and cold eyes. She carried a tray of food and placed it on the table without a word.

"You should eat," the woman said flatly. "You'll need your strength for today."

Liora narrowed her eyes. "Why? What's happening today?"

The woman hesitated for a moment, then straightened her back. "You're expected to meet the family. They will want to see you before the wedding."

Liora scoffed, arms crossing over her chest. "Family? So I'm supposed to just smile and nod while a bunch of people I don't know pretend like this isn't completely insane?"

The woman didn't respond. She simply turned and walked out, locking the door behind her.

Liora exhaled sharply, her mind racing. This was an opportunity. If she was meeting his family, that meant she wouldn't be locked in this room all day. Maybe, just maybe, she could use this to her advantage.

She took a long, scalding shower, trying to wash away the tension coiling in her muscles. As she stepped out and reached for a towel, her eyes landed on the bed. A dress—elegant, expensive, and undoubtedly chosen without her input—was neatly laid out.

Beside it, a folded note bore Lucian's precise handwriting, the ink as sharp and calculated as the man himself. Her stomach twisted with irritation, a simmering anger bubbling beneath her skin. With a huff, she snatched it up, already knowing she wouldn't like what it said, but unable to resist the pull of curiosity and defiance.

On the note were precise, almost clinical instructions, detailing what she was to wear, where she was to be, and how she was expected to behave. The words dripped with control, each line a command rather than a suggestion. At the bottom, a final line stood out in bold strokes: 'Do not embarrass me.' Liora's grip on the note tightened, her jaw clenching. Oh, she would follow instructions—just not in the way Lucian expected.

A few hours later, Liora found herself being escorted down a long, dark hallway lined with expensive paintings and cold marble floors. Antonio, Lucian's so-called right-hand man, walked beside her, his presence imposing.

"Try to behave," he muttered under his breath. "Lucian may tolerate your attitude, but his father won't."

Liora smirked. "Oh, I'm shaking in my boots."

Antonio didn't respond, but the warning in his eyes was clear. They reached a set of grand doors, and Antonio pushed them open, revealing an opulent dining room where several figures were already seated.

At the head of the table sat an older man with an air of authority that made Lucian seem almost approachable. His graying hair was slicked back, and his sharp gaze immediately locked onto her. This had to be Lucian's father.

"So this is the girl," the man said, voice deep and cold. "The one causing all this trouble."

Liora didn't flinch under his scrutiny. If anything, she lifted her chin higher. "I don't know what lies Lucian has told you, but I'm not here by choice."

A soft laugh came from a young woman sitting to the side. "She's got spirit," she mused, her green eyes glinting with amusement. She had the same sharp features as Lucian, though there was a mischievousness to her that set her apart.

Before Liora could respond, she felt a sudden warmth behind her—Lucian. He had entered the room without a sound. His hand pressed against her back in a firm yet possessive touch, guiding her forward. She stiffened as he effortlessly led her to the chair beside him, his grip unyielding as he sat her down before taking his own seat.

"This is my sister, Celeste. And these—" he gestured to the two men sitting across from her "—are my twin brothers, Rafael and Dominic."

The twins regarded her with identical smirks, both equally unnerving in their own way.

"A pleasure," Rafael drawled. "We've heard quite a bit about you."

Liora forced a smile. "I'm sure you have."

Lucian's father, who still hadn't given his name, leaned forward slightly. "You should know, girl, that this wedding isn't something you get a say in. My son has made his decision, and our family does not tolerate disobedience."

Liora met his gaze, refusing to let him intimidate her. "Good to know. I'll be sure to keep that in mind when I file for divorce."

Celeste let out an actual laugh this time, while Lucian sighed, clearly unimpressed.

"You should be more careful with your words," Antonio muttered beside her.

"And you should be more careful with your threats," Liora shot back. "They don't scare me."

Lucian's father studied her for a long moment before nodding. "She has fire. But fire can be extinguished."

A chill ran down Liora's spine at the certainty in his voice. She needed to get out of here. Fast.

Later that evening, Liora was led to what she assumed was her designated room for the night—a lavish space with a large window that overlooked the estate's grounds. As soon as she was alone, she tested the lock on the door. It wasn't as sturdy as the one in her previous room.

Her heart pounded as she quickly surveyed the area. The window was large enough for her to squeeze through, and below was a stone ledge that ran along the side of the building. It was risky, but she had no choice.

With careful movements, she climbed onto the ledge, her breath hitching as she steadied herself. One wrong step and she'd fall. She edged along, reaching for a nearby trellis covered in vines. Just a little further—

A hand closed around her wrist.

She gasped, looking up to see an older man standing above her, holding her firmly in place. Lucian's father.

"Going somewhere?" he asked, his voice calm but carrying an unmistakable threat.

Liora struggled, but his grip was unyielding. "Let go of me!"

He yanked her back inside effortlessly, slamming the window shut behind her. She stumbled, breathing heavily as he loomed over her.

"You're bold, I'll give you that," he said. "But you're also foolish if you think you can escape."

Before she could respond, the door opened, and Lucian stepped in. His gaze flickered between his father and Liora, his expression unreadable.

"I assume she was trying to run again?" Lucian asked.

His father nodded. "She's stubborn. You'll have to break that."

Lucian exhaled slowly, then turned his gaze to her. "You're making this far more difficult than it needs to be, Liora."

She lifted her chin, defiance burning in her eyes. "Good. I intend to make it impossible."