Ariana’s POV
The low rumble of an engine pulled me from my thoughts. I peeked out the window just in time to see my father’s car rolling into the driveway. The headlights washed over the front porch, followed by the familiar shadow climbing out of the driver’s seat. Elias.
He was helping my father again — carrying the man’s briefcase, unloading the boxes from the car’s trunk. From the window, I could see the way he moved: quiet, efficient, like always.
I sat back on the couch, pretending to scroll through my phone when the front door opened.
My father’s voice filled the house, smooth and commanding as usual. “Elias, take those files to the storeroom. The ones in the black folder.”
“Yes, sir,” Elias replied, his tone steady, respectful.
The sound of his footsteps against the marble fl
