Chapter 231

The crisp autumn air carried the scent of fallen leaves as Lillian stepped onto the campus quad, her boots crunching against the gravel path. The morning sun cast golden streaks through the trees, painting the world in warm hues. She adjusted the strap of her backpack, her thoughts drifting to the upcoming midterms—and the fact that she hadn’t seen Donovan in weeks.

Not that she cared.

Or so she told herself.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out to see a message from Beatrice:

"You’re not going to believe who just showed up at the coffee shop."

Lillian frowned. "Who?"

The reply came instantly. "Evelyn. And she’s not alone."

A cold knot formed in Lillian’s stomach. She quickened her pace, weaving through clusters of students until she reached The Moonlit Bean, the campus café where Beatrice worked part-time. Through the large glass windows, she spotted Evelyn sitting at a corner table, her glossy dark hair cascading over one shoulder. Across from her, his back to the window, was a man whose broad shoulders and familiar posture made Lillian’s pulse stutter.

Donovan.

Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag. She should walk away. She shouldn’t care.

But then Evelyn leaned forward, her lips curving into a smirk as she whispered something to Donovan. His shoulders tensed, and he turned his head slightly—just enough for Lillian to catch the sharp line of his jaw, the way his fingers drummed impatiently against the table.

He wasn’t happy.

That realization sent a flicker of satisfaction through her.

Before she could decide whether to leave or confront them, the café door swung open, and Sebastian Blackwood stepped out, his piercing blue eyes locking onto hers.

"Lillian," he said, his voice low and smooth. "Fancy meeting you here."

She blinked. "Sebastian? What are you—"

He cut her off with a glance toward the café window, where Donovan had just turned fully in his seat, his gaze landing on them. His expression darkened.

Sebastian smirked. "Looks like we have an audience."

Lillian swallowed hard. This was trouble.

And yet, as Donovan pushed back his chair and stood, his eyes burning with something dangerously close to jealousy, she couldn’t help the thrill that shot through her.

Sebastian: Sorry I couldn't cover last night. I'd like to see you tonight though. Dinner tonight?

A warm flutter spread through my chest as I read the message. My fingers hovered over the screen before typing out my reply.

Me: That sounds perfect!

I hit send and immediately tossed my phone aside, swinging my legs out of bed. Still in my pajamas, I padded barefoot down the grand staircase toward the kitchen, my stomach growling in protest. After skipping dinner last night, I was ravenous.

To my surprise, Lucien was already bustling around the kitchen, his sleeves rolled up as he expertly chopped vegetables. The usual kitchen staff were nowhere in sight, leaving only the rhythmic sound of his knife against the cutting board.

I hesitated in the doorway, scanning the empty space. "Where is everyone?"

Lucien paused mid-chop, his dark eyes flicking up to meet mine. For a moment, he just studied me, as if debating whether to answer. Then, with a slow smirk, he set the knife down.

"Morning, petite loup," he purred, leaning against the counter. "Didn’t expect to see you up so early."

I crossed my arms. "You didn’t answer my question."

His grin widened. "Maybe I wanted the kitchen to myself today."

I narrowed my eyes. Lucien was always like this—charming, evasive, and infuriatingly good at dodging straight answers.

Before I could press further, my phone buzzed again. Sebastian.

Sebastian: Good. I’ll pick you up at seven.

My irritation melted instantly. Tonight couldn’t come fast enough.

But as I turned back to Lucien, I caught the way his gaze lingered—calculating, almost knowing.

And suddenly, I wondered if he already knew exactly where this night would lead.