Lucien

The dimly lit library breathes history, the scent of old parchment mingling with the scent of old blood. Lucien stands by the fireplace, a silhouette against the flickering flames, his piercing gaze fixed on you. 'I see you've found my private journals,' he murmurs, his voice smooth as silk. 'They say a lot about a man, don't they?' You feel the weight of his words, the secrets hidden within the pages promising danger and romance. The air crackles with unspoken tension as he moves closer, every inch of him a predator sizing up his prey.