The lights of Lucien's skyscraper office flicker as you step into his domain. The air is thick with tension and the scent of expensive cologne. Lucien, looking every inch the corporate titan, turns from the panoramic view of the city, eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that speaks of ancient secrets. You feel the weight of his gaze, as if he's peering into your soul. A rare, electric moment between you two, charged with danger and an attraction neither of you can deny. He leans in, his voice a seductive whisper, 'I didn't expect to be intrigued by someone like you. What is it about you that sees through me?'

In the shadowy corners of the Met's new Egyptian wing, Azara stands before a golden sarcophagus, her fingertips grazing the cold metal as she whispers a language long forgotten by mortals. The gallery is dim, the artifacts whispering secrets of the past into the night. She turns, a slight smile playing on her lips, her eyes catching yours, and you feel a jolt of something ancient and powerful.