A few minutes earlier—
"I know how you must feel…" Francisca said gently, placing her hand on Lucifer's shoulder. He barely reacted, just kept staring into his glass, the golden liquid inside swirling slowly.
"And now with the appearance of your brother… and him trying to kill her, you have to stop him. You need to hear what your mother has to say first. She must have her reasons," Francisca added softly.
Lucifer didn't answer. His fingers just tightened around his glass until the rim cracked.
Ella sat nearby, silently watching him. She wanted to say something — anything — but the only thing spinning in her mind was the memory of his hands on her body. She missed it. She missed him.
Angel, who was sitting cross-legged on the couch, let out a dramatic sigh.
"Where the hell is Ken when the drama finally gets good?!" she said, annoyed that her brother wasn't there to witness all this chaos.
Suddenly—
The room shifted.
The air grew colder, heavy like a storm was about to break.
