It was a beautiful, beautiful early morning.
The kind of morning that almost looked innocent, as if the world itself wanted to forget the sins of the night before. The sunlight slipped softly through the tall windows of the Rousseau chateau, painting golden lines across the marble floor. The air was quiet, heavy with the silence that comes after storms.
Vivienne lay in the grand bed, her body tangled in sheets far too fine for her. She looked peaceful at first glance, but inside her heart was restless. Her eyelashes trembled against her cheeks. Her lips parted slightly as if whispering secrets even in her sleep.
And then she stirred.
Her eyes snapped open suddenly, like someone had thrown her from one world into another. She sat up with a sharp breath, her heart pounding. Her hands clutched at the sheets, dragging them quickly over her chest.
