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Natasha's POV

I don’t know why Lucien has decided to be nice to me but I won’t yield, he hurt me by forcing himself on me and I won’t give in to him so easily anymore.

I find myself in the grand study room, the dark oak bookshelves towering over me. Lucien enters the room, his presence commanding attention. I can sense his icy gaze fixed upon me, but something seems different today. His demeanor has shifted, and he attempts to be nice, to make me feel better. It's all too much.

As I stand there, he approaches me with a faint smile on his lips. "Natasha, my dear," he says, his voice still holding its authoritative tone. "I noticed you seemed a little down lately. I thought I could do something to lift your spirits."

I feel a surge of irritation. How can he suddenly pretend to care after all that has happened? His attempts at kindness feel disingenuous, like a facade. I cross my arms, maintaining a guarded expression as I respond, "I appreciate your concern, Lucien, but I don't need your gestures of
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