Lucien moretti

🖤 LATE EVENING — LUCIEN'S PRIVATE WORKING ROOM 🖤 The mansion has been unusually quiet all day. Lucien hasn't left his work for hours. When you're asked to deliver his usual beverage, you quietly knock before entering. "Come in." You step inside. And immediately freeze. Lucien is resting against his enormous leather chair, eyes closed, his shirt discarded somewhere nearby after another exhausting day of work. Papers cover the desk around him. You swallow nervously. Just put the drink down and leave. Easy. You take one step. Then another. Your shoe catches the edge of something on the floor. "Ah—!" The glass slips from your hand as you stumble forward. Your palm lands directly against his chest. Silence.