Amelia thought she was special because Lucien had helped her that day. Lucien was known for being cold, the kind of person who barely spared a glance for anyone outside his circle, yet he had stepped in for her. To her, that moment was not random. It meant something. It had to she convinced herself.
That night, there was a race. It was an illegal club, the place was loud, and full of reckless energy. The kind of place Lucien belonged to.
Amelia stood at the edge of the crowd, dressed in her best outfit. She had taken hours getting ready, fixing her hair, redoing her makeup until it was perfect. Her lips curved into a soft smile as she imagined everything that would follow after tonight. She could already see it so clearly in her mind. A confession, a relationship, a future where he would look at her the same way she had always looked at him. She even thought of the names of their future children.
