The cursed billionnaire slave

waiting for something to happen. The usual morning noise-the servants' chatter, the faint hum of laughter or music-was just gone. She tugged the silk robe tighter around her shoulders.

oors, all alone, dressed in dark blue and black. A hood covered most of his face, but she could make out the sharp edge of his jaw, the way he stood like he owned the place. He didn't fit here. But he didn't seem to care. Celestine took a slow step toward him, her chains clinking soft against her wrists. His head tilted up a little, like he knew she was there before she even said a word. The air got thick, heavy between them. He felt... familiar. But that didn't make sense. She'd never seen him before. Had she? Before she could get a word out, Lucien's voice cut through the quiet, sharp as a knife. "You shouldn't be here." She turned and saw him coming down the stairs, his long coat flaring out behind him like a storm cloud. His face didn't give anything away, but the air felt tight, strung with something heavy. The stranger didn't budge. "I came for what's mine," he said, his voice smooth and steady. A chill ran through her. There was something weird about how he talked-something that poked at a part of her she couldn't place, like a memory she'd lost. Lucien's mouth twisted into a cold, thin smile. "Nothing here's yours." A beat of silence hung there. Then the stranger lifted