LUCIEN’S POV

The palace corridors felt endless as I made my way to the guest wing, each step echoing off the walls like a countdown to something I wasn't sure I was ready for.

My mind was a mess—a tangled knot of Adele's calm acceptance, Naomi's desperate lies, and the DNA results. Andrea was mine. A son. The word still felt foreign, like it belonged to someone else's life.

But Adele's suggestion for dinner as a family... it had lit a spark of hope amid the chaos. Maybe this could work. Maybe we could build something real, without Naomi poisoning it all.

But doubt gnawed at me, sharp and relentless....