Chapter 41
Apr 17, 2025
Felicia clutched the notebook against her chest, her hands trembling. Her heart pounded violently, but she forced herself to steady her voice as she glared at Lucien.
“Tell me the truth, Lucien.”
Lucien stood in the doorway, his expression dark and unreadable. The dim candlelight from the hallway cast long shadows over his face, making his sharp features even more intimidating.
Felicia refused to back down.
“Who was Georgina?” she demanded. “And why do you have pictures of her pregnant? With you standing right next to her?”
Lucien’s jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. For a moment, he didn’t answer, just stared at her like he was deciding how much to tell her.
Then, he sighed, stepping fully into the room.
“She was my fiancée.”
Felicia’s breath caught.
“Your what?”
Lucien rubbed a hand down his face, his eyes dark with something she couldn’t quite read—pain, regret, something deeper than just sorrow.
“Five years ago,” he said slowly, “Georgina and I were engaged. She was pregnant with my children. Twins.”
Felicia felt a cold weight settle in her stomach.
Twins.
The same way she had carried twins.
She gripped the book tighter, her mind racing. “What happened to her?”
Lucien exhaled heavily, his gaze dropping for the first time. “She disappeared.”
Felicia stared at him. “Disappeared?”
Lucien nodded, his expression darkening. “The night she was supposed to give birth, she vanished without a trace. No body, no signs of struggle, nothing. One moment she was here, and the next… gone.”
Felicia felt her chest tighten. “And the twins?”
Lucien’s face hardened. “I never got to meet them.”
Felicia’s stomach twisted painfully. She couldn’t imagine the agony of losing not just a mate, but unborn children as well.
But still—he had never mentioned this before.
She swallowed down the whirlwind of emotions, focusing on what mattered now.
“And Danielle?” she demanded, stepping closer. “You knew she was your sister this whole time, and you didn’t bother to tell me? Were you helping her? Were you behind all of this too?”
Lucien’s head snapped up, his eyes flashing dangerously. “What did you just say?”
Felicia tightened her grip on the notebook, her voice accusing. “Danielle. Your sister. You’ve been protecting her, haven’t you?”
Lucien’s brows furrowed, genuine confusion flickering across his face. “Felicia, I don’t know any Danielle.”
Felicia laughed bitterly. “Really? Because her pictures are all over this damn book!” She flipped through the pages, pointing at the ones where he stood side by side with the woman she knew as Danielle.
Lucien stared at the image, his face unreadable.
Then, his eyes darkened, his body going completely rigid.
“That’s not Danielle.”
Felicia felt her breath catch. “What?”
Lucien’s voice was sharp, controlled—but something lurked beneath it.
“That’s my sister, Daphne.”
Felicia felt the room spin for a moment.
“Daphne?” she whispered.
Lucien nodded once, his expression grim. “My younger sister. She was killed years ago.”
Felicia’s blood ran cold.
Her mind reeled, trying to piece everything together. The old photos, the striking resemblance, the woman she knew as Danielle…
No.
No, that wasn’t possible.
Danielle was alive.
She had been there, taunting them, leading rogue attacks, causing all this destruction.
How could she be Daphne?
Felicia’s voice came out hoarse, shaken. “Lucien, if she’s dead, then who the hell have we been fighting this whole time?”
Lucien’s jaw clenched, his eyes darkening with something she had never seen before.
Something like fear.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But if she looks like Daphne, then whatever she is… she’s not human.”
