Bound by Lust

The days following the engagement party passed in a blur. The mansion, once bustling with the excitement of the event, had returned to its quiet routine, with a noticeable absence of warmth. Esme often found herself alone, wandering through the halls as Kael immersed himself deeper in his work. He rarely acknowledged her presence, his cold demeanor seemingly growing more distant with each passing day.

Esme spent most of her time in the study or the garden, areas she had learned to occupy in the silence that enveloped their home. At first, she tried to seek out Kael, offering small words of conversation, but his responses were always curt, almost dismissive. His focus remained solely on his work—papers, reports, and phone calls that he always took with an air of indifference. It was as if he had forgotten she existed at times.

She couldn't understand it. This was supposed to be a partnership, a union. But with every passing day, Esme felt more like a ghost in her own home. Kael never looked at her with the affection one might expect between fiancés, and he certainly didn't offer the emotional support she had hoped for. In fact, he didn't offer anything at all.

But there was someone who did.

Lucan.

Lucan's presence was a balm to the isolation Esme had come to know. He would visit often, always with a calm demeanor, offering casual conversation, subtle smiles, and the rare moments of genuine warmth that Kael had not provided. It wasn't that Lucan tried to be her confidante—it was simply that, in contrast to Kael's coldness, Lucan made her feel seen. Heard.

Their conversations started as simple exchanges, but as the days wore on, they deepened. Lucan would ask about her day, about her thoughts, and they would discuss everything from art to history to Esme's personal dreams. She began to look forward to those brief moments when Lucan would stop by, and with each passing conversation, Esme felt a strange pull toward him. It was subtle at first—a flutter in her chest when he smiled at her, the way her mind lingered on his words long after he left.

Esme wasn't blind to the tension between them. She had caught herself staring at Lucan sometimes, wondering if there was something more to his behavior—if maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way she was beginning to feel. But Lucan remained the same—easygoing, friendly, and always just that little bit too distant for anything deeper to form.

There was a gnawing feeling inside her as she found herself questioning her emotions. Was she really falling for Lucan? The thought both excited and terrified her. She hadn't planned for this to happen. Lucan was Kael's brother, and she was engaged to Kael—there was no room for a love triangle in the cold reality of her life. Yet, the feeling of affection she felt for Lucan could no longer be denied.

And yet, Lucan never gave any sign that he returned those feelings. He was kind, yes, but it was a kindness shared with anyone he spoke to. He didn't look at her with the same intensity that she found herself imagining in her moments of quiet reflection. To him, she was just a woman—one more person in the sea of acquaintances that came and went in his life.

Kael, on the other hand, barely spared Esme a glance these days. She couldn't remember the last time he had spoken to her for anything other than business. Their relationship, or what she had thought was a relationship, was a shadow of what it should have been. Kael's coldness had made Esme question everything about her decision. Was she really in love with him, or had she been swept away by the idea of being with someone so powerful, so enigmatic?

In those quiet moments, Esme realized that her heart was no longer certain. It wasn't just her loneliness that was pushing her toward Lucan—it was the way he made her feel, the way he didn't look through her but truly saw her.

But what could she do with those feelings? She was already bound to Kael. The engagement ring on her finger was a constant reminder of the decision she had made, even if her heart wasn't so sure anymore.

****. ****. ****.