Chapter 5 The Letter and the Lies

Celeste stared at the envelope like it might explode, the paper was yellowed at the corners and thin like it had been folded and hidden away for years. Her father's nameClaude Moreau was scrawled across the top in a hurried and familiar script. But what made her stomach twist wasn't just the name, It was the feel of it and the unmistakable ache of something once meant to be read by her, and her alone. Her fingers shook as she slipped the letter out, Lucien still slept beside her, his breath even with his bare chest rising and falling under the grey morning light.

Last night's hunger still lingered on her skin, the taste of him, the weight of his body over hers and the sound of her name from his lips like a vow he wasn't ready to make, but now... this. This was before him, before them. Celeste unfolded the letter.

My dearest C,

If you're reading this, it means I couldn't undo what I set in motion and for that, I'm sorry. I never wanted to leave you,but I was drowning long before I ever touched water. I made choices, ones I thought would protect you, I joined Devereux not because I was loyal to Henri, but because I feared what would happen if I didn't, they weren't saints, Celeste, they played games and I played too. But I broke one of their rules, I fell in love with the truth and the truth... always comes at a cost. Forgive me for not being stronger,for not staying. I only hope one day you'll find answers, and peace, even if they don't come from me.

Love always,

Papa

The last line blurred, her heart cracked, cleanly and painfully like a mirror dropping in slow motion, she had hated Lucien, blamed him and built an identity from grief and revenge. But her father... her father had lied to her. He'd made himself a martyr when in truth and he'd been a pawn. Maybe even a player,not entirely innocent,not entirely guilty and now he was gone, leaving her with just enough truth to bleed.

The bed shifted and Lucien stirred, blinking slowly as the light reached his face, then his gaze found her instantly and when he saw the letter in her hands, all the softness vanished.

"You read it," he said quietly.

She nodded, and Lucien sat up, the sheets falling to his waist revealing the same body that had claimed her the night before, broad chest, lean muscle and a storm beneath his skin.

"I wasn't ready to show you," he said,"I found it in my father's office a year ago,hidden behind a drawer,It was meant for you."

Celeste's voice was flat, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because it changes everything."

"Exactly."

The silence between them thickened,

"You used me," she said, each word clipped and sharp. "You held this back,you brought me here, made me fall into this... this... without telling me the whole truth."

Lucien's expression shifted,part guilt, part defiance. "I didn't plan for you to find it like this."

"But you planned something."

He stood, stepping out of bed, uncaring that he was naked before her. "I planned to keep you close, to protect you and to watch you figure things out at your own pace." but she looked away. Lucien reached for his robe, "Celeste, your father wasn't who you thought and I'm not asking you to forgive himor me,but you deserve the full truth even if it hurts."

She stood slowly, clutching the letter.

"No," she said, voice trembling. "What I deserve is choice,you took that from me."

He paused and then, his voice dropped into a tone she hadn't heard before.

"I take things when I want them," he said. "That's who I am."

"And you want me."

He didn't answer and he didn't have to

Celeste didn't leave the penthouse that day,but she didn't stay close to Lucien either,she needed air, even if she couldn't escape.bShe wandered the halls like a stranger in a palace she didn't belong in.

Portraits of the Devereux legacy stared back at her, cold men in colder suits. Henri Devereux,Lucien at sixteen beside his father with boardroom victories immortalized in brushed silver frames. She stopped in front of one, Lucien in his early twenties, holding a champagne flute, his expression tight, distant and unreadable.

Even back then, he'd looked alone, she wondered if he'd ever been loved without conditions, she wondered if she was capable of loving him without hating him first.

Night fell with little ceremony, Celeste sat on the balcony, wrapped in one of Lucien's cashmere coats, sipping tea she didn't want. Below, Paris glittered like a broken jewel and she could hear laughter from the street cafés, the occasional honk, the life she used to be part of before her name became attached to his. Lucien stepped out quietly behind her, she didn't turn.

"You always show up when I want to be alone," she muttered.

"That's because when you're alone, you think about leaving."

She laughed, hollow,"Maybe I should."

Lucien sat beside her, not touching. "Then why haven't you?"

Celeste turned her head, "I don't know."

"Yes, you do."

She swallowed hard, because the truth sat between them like smoke,thick,tangled and unspoken, she was falling for him, and she hated that.

"You broke something in me," she whispered.

"So break something in me," he replied, and for once, his voice cracked.

Their eyes met and there, for the first time, she saw the man beneath the empire, not the billionaire, not the monster but just a man, wounded, scared, desperate to keep what little peace he had. Her fingers moved without thought, brushing the back of his hand and his jaw clenched,but he didn't move.

"You scare me," she admitted.

Lucien turned toward her fully, slowly, and then, in the faint glow of the city lights, he said the one thing she didn't expect.

"Then I'll give you power over me."

She blinked,"What?"

"You want the truth? Control? My secrets? Take them, you want to leave? I won't stop you,but if you stay... I'll never lie to you again."

Celeste stared at him, trying to find the trick, the trap, the catch, but all she saw was raw, terrifying sincerity.

"And if I say I want everything?" she asked.

Lucien leaned in, so close she could feel his breath.

"Then you'll have me, all of me."

The kiss that followed was nothing like the ones before, It wasn't hungry, vengeful but It was reverent. Lucien kissed her like she was sacred, and his hands explored her body with a patience that made her ache. He lifted her into his arms, carrying her inside with care, this wasn't dominance, It was devotion. He laid her down on the bed, worshipping her skin with his mouth, trailing fire across her collarbone, down her breasts, over her hips and she gasped his name, arching into him with her body open and eager.

"Look at me," he whispered as he entered her. "Don't look away."

She did, and what she saw in his eyes wasn't power, it was surrender. He moved slow at first, letting her feel every inch and every breath. The rhythm deepened, and her cries turned into moans and into whispers of his name and slowly into desperate pleas for more. She held onto him like he was the only thing keeping her grounded, and when they both broke, it was together and his mouth on her neck, her nails raking down his back and their bodies soaked in sweat and something dangerously close to love. After, they lay in silence, he played with her hair and she traced the scar just below his ribs.

"What happened here?" she asked softly.

"Angry investor tried to stab me at a gala."

She laughed,"Seriously?"

He grinned. "It was dramatic, I bled all over my Armani suit."

She shook her head, "You're so full of shadows."

Lucien turned toward her,

"So are you."

A beat passed, Then...

"Tell me something true," she whispered.

He didn't hesitate

"I wanted you long before you walked into that office."

Her heart skipped.

"But I hated you," she whispered.

"I know."

"Then why chase me?"

Lucien's voice dropped.

"Because nothing worth having ever comes easy."

As sleep pulled her under, Celeste felt peace for the first time in years, but peace never lasted, not in the Devereux world.At 3:43 a.m., the shrill ring of Lucien's private phone shattered the Silence and he answered groggy. The voice on the other end made him sit up straight, Celeste blinked awake, her heart racing at the look on his face.

Lucien ended the call and stood abruptly.

"What is it?" she asked.

He didn't look at her as he grabbed a robe.

"There was a break-in."

Her blood chilled. "Here?"

"No. At the archive vault, my father's old office."

She sat up. "Why would anyone... "

"They were looking for files, someone knows about your father."

Celeste's pulse spiked, "You said no one else knew."

"I thought no one did."

Lucien's jaw locked, "But someone's digging."

He turned toward her, his eyes dark and full of a familiar fire.

"I need to protect you."

Celeste stared at him.

And for the first time, truly believed she might be in danger, not just from Lucien, but from whoever had been watching all along