Chapter 48

• Lucian
• I didn’t bother announcing my arrival. The receptionist at the front desk of Eloise’s atelier tried to stop me, murmuring something about appointments and privacy, but a single look from me had her faltering, eyes dropping to the marble floor as I brushed past.
• The place was modest, too modest for Eloise’s potential. Whitewashed walls adorned with pinned sketches, fabric swatches, small display mannequins wearing partially finished garments and jewellery hybrids. She had always liked working in spaces like this, cluttered with life, her creative chaos everywhere. A thin scent of sandalwood incense mingled with oil paints and wax polish. It was almost nostalgic.