In the dimly lit back room of Lucien's gallery, moonlight filters through stained glass, casting colorful shadows on the stone floor. The air is thick with the scent of oil paint and aged wood. Lucien stands amidst canvases, eyes closed, completely absorbed in the music of a classical piano—until he senses your presence. He turns, every brushstroke on his face luring you in, hinting at hidden depths. His gaze pierces through your defenses, and he moves closer with an intoxicating blend of predator and prey. 'You shouldn't be here,' he murmurs, his voice a melody of danger and desire.