Lucian's pov
"What did you just say?" Ilya's voice cut through the damp air of the room. She stepped closer, her eyes boring into mine. "You love me?"
"Yes," I replied, forcing the word out with as much steady conviction as I could muster.
Suddenly, she burst into a jagged, mocking laugh. The sound echoed off the walls, sharp and entirely devoid of real warmth. "I didn't realize you were this hilarious, Lucian," she spat, her amusement instantly vanishing into a cold sneer. "What do you think is going to happen? You say you love me, and I just fall for your pathetic lies and set you free? You clearly aren't understanding the situation you're in. I am going to kill you."
Her tone was deadly serious, but I didn't let my expression waiver. I had to play this perfectly.
"You can't kill me, Ilya. You and I both know that," I said, leaning forward as much as my restraints would allow. "You love me. I was actually about to confess my feelings to you back then, before you ran away."
