Page 45 of Porcelain Grave

I barely make it to the center of the room before a hand clamps onto my arm like a vice, yanking me backward. I'm slammed against his chest, his grip iron-tight.

"Now, now, let's calm down," Lucien says, sounding more like a disappointed teacher than a kidnapper. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just need you to stay put until Rhys gives me what I want. No need for the gymnastics."

"I am not your prisoner!" I yell, twisting in his grip, clawing at his hand. "Get your fucking hands off me!"

"You are my prisoner," he corrects me with a cheeky wink. "Though I'm happy to negotiate the terms of your residency if you stop trying to tackle me."

"I'm not afraid of you, you arrogant prick!" I scream, kicking at his shins.

"Clearly," he sighs, sounding exhausted by my outburst. "Your lack of fear is almost adorable. Truly."

Then, quite suddenly, he lets go. He just... opens his hand.

I don't hesitate. I sprint for the door, rip it open, and prepare to make a run for it. But I stop dead.

Standing directly on the other side is a man the size of a fucking mountain. He's hulking, his face a mask of indifference, and in his hand, he's casually balancing a knife that looks more like a short sword.

I freeze. My breath hitches. Slowly, very slowly, I close the door and turn back to Lucien without saying a word.

Lucien is leaning against the bedpost, looking smug as hell. "As I was saying, Snowdrop, leaving here is practically impossible. Even if you managed to slip past me—which, let's be honest, you didn't—and somehow got through that door, you wouldn't make it past the main gate without being caught and brought back. My security is quite... thorough."

I slump against the door, feeling defeated. "Why? Why the fuck would you even kidnap me?"

"Because," Lucien says, his tone shifting to something more serious, though the arrogance remains. "After years of nothing—absolute, boring nothing—Rhys finally has someone he actually gives a toss about. I wasn't about to waste that opportunity. I've been following you for days, Ophelia. I had men stationed by the Midnight Menagerie gates every single night, just waiting for a moment when you were alone. But Rhys... he's like a fucking shadow. Always lurking. Until today. Today, he got careless."

He begins to peel off his expensive charcoal coat, tossing it carelessly onto the bed. "Anyway, enough of the melodrama. Make yourself at home. What do you like to eat? I'll have the staff whip something up for you."

He reaches up and starts undoing his tie, pulling it from his collar with a flourish. "Fish and chips? A proper Sunday roast? Shepherd's pie? Bangers and mash? Steak and kidney?"

I stay silent, staring at him in disbelief.

"Nothing?" He raises an eyebrow. "Well, I suppose I'll have to take extra good care of you, because depending on how quickly Rhys meets my demands, you might be here for a while. And don't worry, I'm not going to tie you up or anything. That's so... cliché. However, I will be keeping you in my bedroom. I can't trust the other staff to keep an eye on you."

He gives me a playful, knowing look. "I mean, look at you. You're gorgeous. You'd probably distract a guard with one look, lock him in a closet before he even realized what was happening, steal some staff clothes, cover your face, and vanish into the night. I simply can't risk the embarrassment of losing my prize."

As he talks, he begins unbuttoning his shirt. He doesn't stop, sliding the fabric off his shoulders and letting it drop to the floor.

My mouth drops open. I immediately spin around, facing the wall. "What the fuck are you doing?!"

"Changing into something more comfortable," he replies casually.

"In front of me?!" I yell, my face heating up.

"Is there a problem?" I can hear the smirk in his voice. "Have you never seen a man's chest before? I mean, surely you've seen Rhys's... or do you two have some sort of weird kink where you only fuck with your clothes on?"

I take a deep, shuddering breath, trying not to scream or lunge at him. "That's different! He's the man I love! I can watch him change. I don't want to watch some random, arrogant stranger strip in front of me!"

"Too bad," Lucien chuckles. "You're missing out on quite a view, Snowdrop. Truly, a tragedy."

I roll my eyes so hard it hurts. "Are you always this much of an arrogant prick, or is today a special occasion?"

"Darling, this is me on a bad day," he replies. "On a good day, I'm positively insufferable."

I don't give him a response. Not that I can think of one anyway. Until he finally sighs. "Alright, alright. I'm done. You can look now."

I wait a beat, then slowly turn around. He's swapped the suit for a simple grey t-shirt and black sweatpants. He looks less like a villain and more like a gym rat, but the arrogance is still there, etched into every line of his face.

"Do you want to change into something more comfortable?" he asks. "I can have some things brought in for you."