The thud echoed again, sharper this time, like something heavy striking wood.
Serena froze. Her bag strap cut into her palm, her breath snagged in her throat.
Her mother's smile faltered. The glow in Anna's eyes dimmed as she turned toward the staircase, her silk sleeve trembling where she clutched it.
"Stay here," she whispered.
But Serena's feet wouldn't move anyway.
The marble staircase stretched upward like the throat of some vast beast. Shadows flickered across the walls as another sound tore through the silence-
A shout. Deep, violent.
"Do you think you can tell me what to do?"
The words rolled down the hall like thunder.
Then ...movement.
A figure appeared at the top of the stairs, dragging another man by the collar.
Serena's breath hitched.
Tall. Broad shoulders. A presence that filled the staircase as though the house itself bent beneath his weight. His shirt clung damp with sweat, his hair dark and plastered against his forehead. His fists raw, bloodied.
The man he dragged stumbled, his face swollen, nose bent wrong. His cries were muffled by the hand clamped on his collar.
And then Serena saw his eyes.
Dark. Burning. Wild.
Lucien.
Her chest tightened. She had heard his name whispered in fragments from her mother. A new stepbrother. The son of Marcus.
But no whisper had prepared her for this.
He wasn't just angry. He was fury itself walking, breathing, spilling blood across polished marble.
The sound of knuckles cracking against bone filled the air.
The servant cried out.
Lucien didn't stop.
"Lucien!" Anna's voice split the silence, sharp and desperate. She rushed forward, calling his name over and over.
But he didn't hear. His chest heaved with each breath, the muscles in his arm flexing as he slammed his fist again. And again.
The servant's knees gave out. He collapsed onto the marble. Blood smeared across the shining floor.
Serena's stomach churned. Her fingers clawed at her bag strap, but her legs refused to move.
This is the man I have to call brother?
Lucien's body stilled for only a second. Then his hand shifted.
Metal gleamed in the chandelier light.
A gun.
He pulled it free like it belonged to him. Without hesitation, he aimed down.
The sound split the air.
Bang!
The bullet ripped into the servant's leg. The man screamed, his body twisting on the floor, clutching at blood that spread too fast.
"Stop!" Anna's scream echoed through the hall.
Her silk hem swept the floor as she rushed forward, her hand outstretched.
Serena's heart seized.
If he fires again....if she gets in the way...
Her body moved before thought.
"Please! stop!"
Her voice cracked as she ran, feet slipping across marble, bag falling from her grip. She threw herself at him, colliding into his chest.
The gun jolted upward from the force.
Serena's arms locked tight around him. Her face pressed into the damp fabric of his shirt. His chest was solid, heaving beneath her cheek. The scent of gunpowder and iron filled her lungs.
"Please…" Her voice trembled, breaking against the silence. "Don't do this."
Everything froze.
Lucien's body went rigid. The weight of the gun hung in the air.
His breath was hot, ragged. Her hands clung tighter, her whole frame shaking against him.
Slowly, mechanically, his head turned.
And his eyes wild, bloodshot, untamed - met hers.
For the first time, he wasn't looking at blood.
He was looking at her.
The house fell silent.
Even Anna stopped moving, her voice caught in her throat as she watched.
Lucien's jaw clenched. His chest heaved against Serena's cheek.
Her words rang in his head like a chain thrown around a beast's throat.
Please… don't do this.
No one had ever begged him like that. Not without fear. Not without trembling disgust.
But she wasn't just afraid.
There was something else in her voice. Desperation. A kind of raw, unguarded plea that burned deeper than the servant's scream.
For a heartbeat, Lucien didn't breathe.
The gun wavered in his grip.
Serena dared to lift her head. Her face was pale, her eyes wide but unblinking as she looked up at him.
Close enough to see the flecks of red in his eyes. Close enough to smell blood on his skin.
Her lips parted, trembling.
"Please…"
Lucien stared back at her.
The storm inside him raged, but something...something foreign shifted in his chest.
The heat of her body pressed against him. The faint vanilla scent in her hair clung to his senses. His knuckles throbbed with pain, but for the first time that night, he didn't feel like hitting.
He felt like… stopping.
"Lucien," Anna's voice broke through, softer this time.
He blinked, his gaze snapping away from Serena to his stepmother.
Her face was pale, but her eyes held no anger now. Only fear. Not for the servant. For Serena.
Lucien's jaw tightened.
His hand lowered.
The gun clattered onto the marble floor.
The servant whimpered, crawling backward, leaving streaks of red.
Lucien didn't look at him. Didn't look at Anna.
Only at her.
The girl still pressed against his chest, arms tight around him, breathing unevenly.
His new sister.
Serena.
The silence was unbearable. Serena's heartbeat pounded in her ears, louder than the storm outside.
Finally, Lucien spoke. His voice was rough, gravel dragged across stone.
"You shouldn't touch me."
Serena froze.
His words weren't a threat. They were a warning.
And yet, his hands didn't push her away.
Anna hurried forward, placing a trembling hand on Serena's shoulder. "Serena, come. Step back. Please."
Reluctantly, her grip loosened. She stepped back, her chest heaving, her legs shaking beneath her weight.
Lucien's eyes followed her every movement, dark and unreadable.
The servant whimpered again, dragging himself toward the doors.
Lucien finally turned his head, his voice sharp as a blade.
"Get out of my sight."
The man scrambled away, half-crawling, half-limping, leaving streaks of blood across the marble.
The massive doors slammed behind him.
The storm outside roared louder.
And inside, Serena realized her new life wasn't just inside a mansion.
It was inside a cage with a storm named Lucien.