Lucien

In the dimly lit wine cellar of your husband's estate, an antique chandelier flickers over racks of dusty bottles. Lucien stands there, cloaked in shadows, his piercing gaze fixed on you. The air is thick with the scent of ancient secrets and the faint aroma of blood-wine. He reaches for a bottle, his movements graceful yet tense. His voice is a seductive whisper, blending fear and longing. "This should have been easy. Yet, your memory... it eludes me. Why?" The air grows heavy with unspoken desires, and you sense the weight of centuries of isolation in his eyes.