Page 50 of The Hunter's Empire

By the time we reach the main hall, several groups have already gathered near the entrance.

A woman separates herself from one of them the moment she notices us. Dark hair frames her face in loose waves, and a scattering of freckles stretches across her cheeks and nose. She looks around my age, though what catches my attention first isn't her smile but the dress she wears. High-necked, long-sleeved, and falling all the way to the floor despite the heavy Irish humidity hanging in the air. The choice feels deliberate rather than fashionable. The smile that appears when she sees Domenico catches my attention next.

“Lucien.” There is an ease in her voice that speaks of familiarity rather than politeness.

Domenico smiles back. “Roisin.”

The exchange is brief, but it reinforces something I have been noticing since arriving in Ireland. People here do not treat Lucien Moreau like a stranger or a convenient alias. They know him well enough that the identity feels less like a cover and more like a life that existed long before I stepped into it.

Roisin's attention shifts toward me. “And this must be Vivienne.” Her smile softens. “It is nice to finally meet you.”

The word catches my attention immediately. I smile politely. “It is nice to meet you too.”

“I have heard quite a bit about you already.”

I glance briefly toward Domenico. He gives absolutely nothing away.

Roisin laughs quietly when she notices my expression.

“Do not look so concerned. We were simply surprised.”

“Surprised?” I ask.

“That Lucien finally arrived with someone.” The amusement in her voice deepens. “For years he would disappear for months at a time and return without so much as an explanation. People started making theories.”

“Theories?”

“Bets.” She corrects. “There were actual bets.”

I cannot help laughing.

Beside me, Domenico closes his eyes briefly as though reconsidering every decision that led him to this moment. “That information was not necessary.”

“Oh, it was absolutely necessary.” Roisin turns back to me. “You have no idea how impossible this man is.”

“I am beginning to form an opinion.”

That earns a laugh from her and a mildly offended look from Domenico. “I appreciate the loyalty.”

“You should not.” Roisin replies immediately. “She seems intelligent enough to know better.”

By the time we reach the dining room, dozens of guests have already taken their seats around a massive table illuminated by chandeliers and candlelight. Quiet conversations fill the room as crystal glasses catch the warm glow overhead.

The moment Domenico enters, several people greet him. Some stand to shake his hand. Others ask about his travels or reference stories from years ago.

An older gentleman with silver hair studies me with open curiosity. “And who is this lovely woman?”

Domenico's hand settles lightly against my lower back before he answers. “This is my fiancée, Vivienne.”

The reaction around the table is immediate. A few eyebrows rise. Someone laughs quietly. Apparently, the fiancée is far more surprising than Lucien's arrival.

I offer a polite smile. “It is a pleasure to meet all of you.”

Before the conversation can continue, the large doors at the far end of the dining room open.

The change is almost imperceptible at first. Nobody stands. Nobody announces anything. Yet the atmosphere shifts immediately.

Conversations trail off mid-sentence. Several guests glance toward the entrance. Others subtly straighten in their chairs. The room seems to sharpen around a single point of focus.