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Raphael’s POV

The craziest part of this was that it wasn’t unexpected. It was as if a part of always knew the truth.

My jaw tightened. Ronan sighed. " You fucked up dear boy. Lucien has officially stolen the wife you threw away."

I went silent. Dad never liked Alia. He was passive to the entire situation and only spoke up because of the company. The one keen on Alia was Mum

Sothing dark twisted in my chest at those words. "There are more pictures," Ronan added, nodding toward the envelope. My breath shuddered, there was a weight on my chest that remained.

My hands moved before I could think. I reached in and pulled out the remaining photographs. My hands froze for a mont just staring at the photographs. It was the woman I had been searching for like a madman and my nace of an uncle who was secretly a genius.

They were leaving a restaurant together. The picture didn’t have a ti stamp but my gut told it was recent. I flipped to the next one.

My breath caught. They were entering his villa. Lucien was standing at the car door. His hand was helping her out of the car like the most fragile thing ever. The way she looked at him made my heart squeeze. That was the sa way she stared at before everything fell apart

I felt sothing snap quietly inside my chest.

"I think your wife has moved in with Lucien," Ronan said, his voice cutting through the silence.

I clenched the photograph in my hand. "She is still married to ," I snapped.

Ronan did not react. If anything, the corner of his lips lifted slightly. "On paper, perhaps."

My chest rose and fell slowly as I tried to steady myself. "There is sothing else you should know," he added.

I looked at him, my patience wearing thin. "What now?" I snapped losing my temper already. I was already falling apart.

"Braelyn’s real surna is not Alderheim," he said. "It is Voss. Alderheim is her mother’s na."

My brows furrowed. "What are you talking about?" I didn’t understand what he was talking about. Everyone knew the Voss family. Their influence was considered similar to the Volkovs if not more.

"Dominic is an estranged heir of the Voss family," Ronan continued. "With their backing, things can change very quickly."

He did not need to say it. All the things I had assud would keep her tied to suddenly felt fragile. I rembered the negotiations with the Voss family. The way Dominic’s gaze strayed to her with interest. He already knew by then who she was and I had foolishly thought he had other intentions towards her

I looked back down at the pictures in my hand, my thoughts spiralling. None of this made sense.

Why would Lucien go after her?

Out of all people.

Then the thought hit , sharp and unsettling.

Did he know?

Did he know who she was?

Did he know what her mother had done?

Or was this just another ga to him?

My fingers tightened around the photograph as a cold realisation settled in.

Either way, Lucien was not playing small.

And for the first ti since all of this started, I felt like I was the one who had already lost.

********

The drive back felt longer than it should have.

I do not rember most of it. My hands stayed on the wheel, my eyes on the road, but my mind kept replaying everything I had just seen. The reports, the pictures, the truth sitting in my chest like sothing sharp that refused to settle.

I should have gone ho. To the building that wasn’t the sa without her.

Instead, I found myself turning in the opposite direction without thinking, like sothing inside had already decided before I could.

By the ti I realised where I was headed, it was too late to pretend otherwise.

I parked a distance away from Lucien’s villa, the car blending into the darkness. The engine went quiet, and the silence that followed felt heavier than anything I had carried all night.

Snow fell lightly, covering the ground in a thin layer of white. It should have felt peaceful but it did not.

My fingers tightened slightly on the steering wheel as I stared ahead.

Lucien’s place stood further in, secluded, almost deliberately cut off from the rest of the world. The lights inside were dim, nothing too bright, nothing that gave anything away easily.

I told myself I just needed to confirm it.

Just one look.

That was all.

Minutes passed.

Then more.

Ti dragged in a way that made every second feel suffocating. My eyes stayed fixed on the villa, barely blinking, like I was afraid I would miss sothing if I looked away.

My chest felt tight, my breathing slower than usual, controlled in a way that did not feel natural. At the point I almost thought of leaving, it had been almost an hour when a light flickered on.

My entire body tensed without warning. My gaze drew to the balcony. The glass door slid open, and a figure stepped out.

I knew it was her before I even saw her face clearly. Braelyn. My Lynn. My grip tightened on the wheel as my chest tightened.

For a mont, everything else faded. She looked... fine.

That was the first thing that hit . Not broken or lost. Definitely not the woman I had imagined in my head all this ti while I tore the city apart looking for her.

She was not dressed for the cold. The thin fabric clung to her slightly as the wind brushed past, but she did not seem to notice. She stood there quietly, her gaze turned away, lost in sothing I could not see from where I was.

My chest tightened painfully.

I had imagined this mont so many tis. Finding her, bringing her back, begging for forgiveness

But this...

This was not how it was supposed to look. After a short while the door behind her opened again.

My jaw clenched as Lucien stepped out.

He did not hesitate. He walked straight to her like it was the most natural thing in the world, a blanket already in his hands. He draped it over her shoulders gently, his movents careful, almost instinctive.

Then he pulled her into him like she belonged there.

I felt sothing twist deep in my chest. A tear I couldn’t control slid out.

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