Two days later.

Lucian’s ankle had finally healed. It still ached a little when he put weight on it, but he could walk without much trouble.

The weather was bright and clear that morning, sunlight spilling warmly across the marble floor.

Lucian stood by the window, dressed sharply in a cream turtleneck and a long wool coat. A pale scarf looped casually around his neck, softening the strong lines of his face. With his dark slacks and polished boots, he looked like he’d just stepped out of an Indian drama — tall, elegant, and impossibly handsome.

Mrs. Newton watched her son fix his hair in the mirror, her face darkening...