Page 53 of The Hunter's Empire

Before I can ask what she means, she disappears down another hallway.

Several minutes pass before she returns carrying an older iPod and a single earpiece.

She holds them out toward me. "This is probably the safest contraband item currently inside the estate."

I take them from her carefully. "You are a lifesaver."

The amusement in her voice fades slightly. "He takes security seriously."

The brief change in her expression doesn't escape me. Not fear exactly. But caution. The kind that develops after years of living beside dangerous people.

"I'll be careful."

"I know you will." Her smile returns. "Besides, if anyone asks, I have no idea where you got them."

We continue talking as we make our way upstairs.

The conversation drifts naturally between harmless topics and small pieces of personal history. Unlike the people downstairs, Roisin doesn't seem interested in measuring every word before she speaks.

By the time we reach my room, Roisin stops outside the door. "Get changed. I'll wait."

I slip inside and change quickly. A short while later, I step back into the hallway wearing black leggings and a fitted athletic top. The clothes feel liberating after hours spent maintaining the polished appearance expected at dinner.

We begin heading toward the rear gardens.

Moonlight spills across the estate grounds, silvering the stone pathways and casting long shadows across the grass. The lake glimmers in the distance, reflecting fragments of light from the manor windows.

The entire estate looks deceptively peaceful. Beautiful enough to belong in a postcard. Dangerous enough to make me wonder how many people have disappeared beneath that calm surface.

"How long have you known Lucien?" I ask as we walk.

Roisin considers the question. "A few years."

There is affection in her voice when she talks about him.

"He comes and goes. Sometimes we'll see him three times in a month. Other times he'll disappear for six months and suddenly reappear as if he never left."

"That sounds frustrating."

"It is." She laughs softly. "But eventually you stop asking questions. Lucien only answers the ones he wants to answer anyway."

"What about you?" She asks. "How did the two of you meet?"

The question arrives exactly as expected. I answer without hesitation. "At a charity gala in Monaco."

Her attention sharpens immediately. "Very glamorous."

"It was mostly boring speeches and wealthy people pretending to care about philanthropy."

Roisin laughs. "Now that definitely sounds like something Lucien would enjoy."

"Mocking everyone?"

"Exactly."

The conversation continues as we follow the path toward the lake. She shares stories about his previous visits. Not dramatic stories. Small ones.

The stories aren't particularly important. Yet each one adds another layer to a version of him I have never seen before.