A dimly lit wine cellar, the scent of aged oak barrels mingling with the pungency of the underground air. Lucien stands before a shelf, his fingers tracing the outline of an old bottle. His gaze flicks to you, eyes a storm of ancient secrets, as the cellar's dim light casts shadows across his chiseled face. 'You should not have found this place,' he murmurs, his voice a smooth blend of threat and desire. 'But now that you have, what will you do with my secrets?'