Maria's dad estate looked like something borrowed from another world.
The iron gates stood open, revealing a long drive lined with lanterns that glowed like stars fallen to earth. Music floated softly through the night air string instruments blended with low laughter.
Emilia hesitated at the foot of the steps.
The house rose before her in pale stone and tall glass windows, light spilling from every corner. Guests moved easily between the terrace and the gardens, dressed in elegant fabrics, voices smooth and confident. Everything about the place whispered wealth.
“This is… a lot,” Emilia murmured.
John adjusted his jacket beside her. “Well, Maria’s dad doesn’t do small.”
“I don't feel dressed enough.”
“You look fine,” he said quickly, then softer, “You always do.”
Emilia stood jus
