Chapter 238: Peace was never an option
Lucas didn’t go far. That would’ve been suspicious.
He didn’t sneak out through the east corridor or vanish into the greenhouse like the last time Trevor tried to seduce him during a staff meeting. No. This time, he employed the oldest trick in the book.
He took a shower.
A long one.
With the door locked, water steaming, and every click of a cabinet timed like a well-rehearsed performance. He even let Trevor think he’d fallen asleep afterward, curled in a fluffy bathrobe, buried under towels and silence.
And then, quietly, barefoot, damp-haired, and fully clothed at last, he slipped down the west hall with a fresh cup of coffee in one hand and his laptop balanced precariously in the other.
Sanctuary awaited.
The archive room, third floor, west wing. Technically off-limits for redecorating. Realistically, never used except by Windstone when he wanted to disappear without dying.
Lucas set his coffee on a marble side table, cracked the tall window an inch to let in air, and settled into a velvet armchair older than the monarchy. The sunlight hit just right across the rug, turning dust motes into chandeliers, and for one sacred moment...
Peace.
No husband.
No interruptions.