Chapter 82: Chapter 82

The deeper we ventured into the mansion, the more it felt like stepping into another realm.

The main hall itself was breathtaking, a vast space that seemed almost too grand for reality. The vaulted ceilings stretched impossibly high, adorned with gilded patterns that shimmered under the light. Intricate carvings told stories of battles, love, and loss, the artistry so fine it looked alive.

Chandeliers hung like floating galaxies, their countless crystals catching the light and scattering it in mesmerizing patterns across the walls and floor.

And the floors—marble so pristine it didn’t just reflect; it captured everything, turning the room into an endless mirror. Every step echoed lightly, the sound swallowed by the cavernous expanse. Along the walls, massive tapestries depicted scenes of grandeur and chaos, their colors vivid as if painted yesterday.

There were statues too, each one frozen in a moment of movement so realistic it was almost eerie.

A soldier raising his sword, his face twisted in anger; a grieving woman clutching her chest, her expression so raw I had to look away. It was like walking through a gallery of untold stories, every detail whispering a secret.

Even the air carried a weight to it, a subtle blend of aged wood, faint floral notes, and something smoky, like embers lingering long after a fire had burned out. It felt rich, heavy, and completely at odds with the world outside.

This was exactly what one would call richtok.

But the deeper halls? They felt like another world entirely.

Warm sconces lit the hallway, casting a golden glow that made the place feel surreal.

"This... this is incredible," I whispered, unable to stop myself from marveling at it all.

Lucian glanced at me, a faint smile playing at the corner of his lips. "Like what you see?"

I nodded, unable to tear my gaze from the paintings now lining the corridor. Each one seemed to tell a story, some romantic, others tragic. "How can anyone live in a place like this?"

"Easily," he replied smoothly, his voice laced with amusement. "Though I admit, it takes a while to appreciate the details. You don’t notice them as much when it’s your prison as much as your home."

That caught my attention, but before I could ask him what he meant, he stopped in front of a tall set of double doors. Pushing them open, he gestured for me to step inside.

I did, and immediately felt the weight of his gaze on me as I took in the room.

It was a library. Massive, with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves stretching endlessly. A fire crackled in the hearth, the warmth spreading out to the plush seating area.

I turned back to Lucian, my voice breathless. "This place is... insane. You could get lost in here for days."

He chuckled, stepping closer. "It’s meant to impress."

"I thought you said you didn’t have your own personal library?"

I crossed my arms around my chest.

"I do. But I enjoy the town library. It’s filled with people."

"You don’t look like a people person."

"I am not."

I frowned.

He grinned, chuckling, deep and husky. "If I tell you what I do, would you not hate me?"

I scoffed, "You are my ticket to staying alive at the moment, I doubt if I would."

"Well, lets just say, people I do not like but they do aid my staying here on earth."

Jason was right, he did talk cryptically.

"Now," his tone shifted, becoming sharper, "tell me about the person who sent you those flowers at the hospital."

My amazement dimmed as I remembered. I frowned, crossing my arms. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything," he said simply.

I hesitated but eventually relayed the story—the texts, the flowers, the person standing outside my window with a mask and gloves. His expression remained unreadable as I spoke, though his gaze seemed to grow darker with every detail.

When I finished, he hummed, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Show me the texts."

I pulled out my phone, scrolling to the conversation and handing it over. He studied the messages intently, his jaw tightening.

"What is it?" I asked, curiosity and a hint of worry bubbling in my chest.

Lucian handed the phone back, his lips pressing into a thin line. "I’ll look into it. But you should be cautious, Kiara. Whoever this is... they aren’t playing games."

His warning sent a chill down my spine, but before I could ask him what he meant, he stepped closer.

Too close.

I froze as his hand brushed against mine, his other reaching out to my waist. He pulled me closer to his body, the heat radiating off him almost overwhelming.

My breath hitched. "What are you—"

His dark eyes locked onto mine, the smirk gone. "Be careful who you trust, Kiara. Watch out."

I stared at him, his dark eyes were hypnotizing.

Before I could respond, he took a step back. The air around him seemed to ripple, darkening as an eerie stillness settled in.

"Lucian?" I managed to whisper, a knot forming in my stomach.

He didn’t reply.

A faint tendril of smoke curled at his feet, spreading quickly. It wasn’t the gentle mist you’d see in the morning; this was thick, almost alive, slithering up and around him like a protective shield.

"Wait—what’s happening?" I reached out instinctively, my hand stopping mid-air as the smoke grew denser, swirling faster.

His silhouette blurred, dissolving into the black haze. A soft, almost inaudible whisper escaped the void where he once stood. Then, in an instant, the smoke contracted and vanished, leaving nothing but empty space.

I stood frozen, my outstretched hand trembling slightly.

He was gone. Just... gone.

The faint smell of burnt wood lingered, the only proof he’d been there at all. My heart pounded in my chest as I scanned the room, half expecting him to reappear.

"What the actual hell?" I muttered, my voice shaky.

The silence that followed felt heavy, pressing down on me. I rubbed my arms, trying to shake the eerie chill creeping up my spine.

Lucian Hartford just vanished into thin air. And I was left standing there, wondering if I had imagined it all.

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