Savage Gentleman: 3. The Offer

Rain glazed the city in silver.

It fell in thin needles across shuttered windows, over streets that gleamed like mirrors. Evelyn’s driver had begged to wait nearby, but she’d dismissed him with a calm she didn’t feel. The message had said, “Come alone.”

She did.

The gallery stood at the edge of the old quarter—once famous, now abandoned, its marble steps veined with moss. Through the glass doors, she saw only darkness and a single thread of light, flickering like a heartbeat somewhere deep inside.

She stepped through.

The smell of dust and turpentine greeted her. Paintings still hung on the walls—forgotten faces, half-covered by cloths. The floor creaked as she walked, every sound echoing like an accusation.

“Miss Vale,” a voice murmured from the shadows.

Lucas.

He emerged from behind a broken sculpture, coat collar turned up, rainwater dripping from his hair. Even in the half-light, his presence filled the room, quiet and absolute.