Legacy of Love

Concealed Intentions

“Hey, how was the meeting with Sierra? Why didn’t you call me back? You said you’d call as soon as you left her.”

“And I didn’t call. You figure it out.” Adrian smiled and then began to count in his mind. “1, 2, 3, 4, 5.”

“OMG, are you two still together even now?”

“Only five seconds, fast. When God issued smarts, sweet Elena, he gave them all to you.” He knew he wore a silly grin, but he didn’t care. He felt happy for some reason.

“Yeah, yeah, it seems like I shared some with you, Mr. Smartypants.” She chuckled.

“Touché, sis.” Adrian laughed in response.

“So what is she like?” Elena asked.

“She’s nice,” he said.

“That’s it! Just nice? Nothing else?” He heard her gasp out.

“What do you want me to say? I’ve known her five minutes.”

“There’s a lot you could say. Not to mention, you know her well enough to spend the night with her.” Elena tsked. “She’s a woman for crying out loud.” Elena's sigh was audible. “Is she pretty, ugly, fat, slim, feminine, masculine, tall, short…”

“Okay, stop. Come on, I get it.”

This was the first time since being told he was to get married to Sierra that he had even considered what kind of woman his bride would be or how she would look.

He scoffed. He had not previously considered any of his now wife's physical appearance, personality, or attributes, not even for one second. Somehow, he hadn't felt the need to give any of those things importance. Lucky for him, she was beautiful.

“Wow, is she that bad? What is there to think about?”

“Nothing, there's nothing to think about. She's great. She looks amazing.” Adrian saw Mr. Davidson gesturing toward him. “Look, Elena, I've gotta go. I'll call you back and give you all the details then.”

“No…wait, wait.”

Adrian didn’t wait. He ended the call and walked over to his wife, Mr Davidson, and his uncle. Mr. Davidson shared a look with Adrian’s uncle, who nodded and took Sierra’s arm, steering her away from them as he chatted with her.

“Sierra told us about the texts.” Mr. Davidson said, his face marred with grim lines.

“She told me too,” Adrian said, hunched his shoulders as he put his hands into his pants pockets.

“They made their move faster than anticipated. It was a good idea to bring the wedding forward.” Mr. Davidson nodded his head as he spoke.

“Shouldn’t we just announce that we’re married?” Adrian asked, furrowing his brows.

“No, the less they know, the more unprepared they'll be. Let's only announce the engagement for now.” Mr. Davidson said, moving closer to Adrian, then in a serious, barely audible tone, “Adrian, no one must know you're already married, not even Elena.”

“I know that.” Adrian ran his fingers through his hair.

Mr. Davidson took a step back. ”Sierra also said you plan to live in your hotel suite. You need to find someplace more secure, less accessible, gated preferably.”

"Okay, I'll get right on it. How much does Sierra know?” Adrian asked.

“Nothing, and it is best to keep it that way for now.” Mr. Davidson said.

“Should we go somewhere and grab a few drinks and some snacks?” Uncle Thomas called out to them, signaling to a nearby wine bar.

“Absolutely,” Mr. Davidson said. He slapped the top of Adrian’s arm and smiled. “Let’s go, son.”

“Sure,” Adrian fell into step with the older man, took out his phone, and made a call.

After leaving the elders, without knowing where she was going, Adrian took Sierra house hunting.

The high ceilings of the penthouse loft cast dramatic shadows across its polished surfaces as Sierra stepped into the space, her heels echoing with authority. Adrian paused at the entrance, his gaze sweeping over the expansive living area before settling on her. The realtor, a man with a hawkish eye for detail, flicked on the recessed lighting, bathing the room in a soft, golden hue.

"Open concept, as requested," the realtor said, motioning toward the sleek kitchen that seemed to blend seamlessly with the rest of the living area. "It's perfect for entertaining—or whatever your needs."

Sierra walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows, taking in the sprawling cityscape below. However, the sterility of the place left her cold. There was no warmth, no hint of a personal touch.

Adrian joined her by the window, his reflection a ghostly overlay on the glass. "Impressive view," he said, though his voice lacked genuine appreciation, as if views like these were all too common in his world.

"Perhaps," Sierra said, then leaning closer to his ear, continued. “I thought we agreed to live at the hotel. What’s this?” She waved her hand.

“Mr. Davidson felt the hotel was too impersonal for a couple to live in.” Adrian shrugged and stepped to the side as the realtor joined them.

“Oh!”

“What do you think? A great view, isn't it?” The realtor said, smiling,

Sierra tilted her head slightly. “It’s not bad, but I think it lacks character. We should aim for something less... transient."

"Agreed," Adrian said, his eyes meeting hers in the reflection. In that brief moment, Sierra noted an unspoken understanding pass between them. They were not just seeking a property; they were crafting an image that needed to resonate authenticity.

They moved to the next property, a stately manor surrounded by manicured gardens, its interior rich with history and old-world charm. The realtor led them through oak-paneled halls and into a grand drawing room.

"Original features have been carefully preserved," he said, gesturing to the crown molding. "It's a house with a story."

Sierra felt a tug of appreciation for the craftsmanship, her fingers brushing against the cool marble of a fireplace. It was a place that spoke of legacies and lineage—something she felt might appeal to Adrian.

"Quite the narrative," she said, glancing at Adrian, who was examining a set of double doors that opened onto a sunlit terrace. "Does it speak to you?"

"History is compelling," Adrian said, stepping onto the terrace and looking back at the imposing structure. "But we're about to write our own story. Maybe we need a balance between past and future."

"Then let's find somewhere that doesn't feel like a museum or a hotel lobby," Sierra's smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

They thanked the realtor and left the echoes of the manor behind, their search narrowing as they began to understand not just what they needed but what they could become together within the walls of their chosen home.

The following property had open spaces and clean lines, notably different from the historical manor they had just left. As they entered, Sierra's gaze swept across the expansive living area, her appreciation for contemporary design evident in her eyes.

“An open concept," Adrian said, his voice echoing slightly in the room's vastness. "Ideal for entertaining, wouldn't you say?"

Sierra nodded, her mind envisioning guests mingling, laughter bouncing off the high ceilings, and more geared toward the expectations of Adrian’s lifestyle. "It has potential," She sighed, though the sheer magnitude of the space was daunting—a canvas too large for the intimacy she craved.

“Yeah, maybe," Adrian said, trailing his hand along a glass railing leading to an upper level, "but it doesn't feel like home."

“I agree," Sierra said, relief settling within her, her heels clicking on the polished concrete floor as she moved to stand beside him. "We need warmth, something inviting."

"Exactly," he smiled, and Sierra saw common ground in his expression.

Their tour continued through an artful garden, where Adrian paused beside a sculpture that twisted toward the sky, its form both chaotic and captivating.

“That's intriguing!” he said aloud, "the balance between order and freedom."

“It’s a bit like us," Sierra quipped, and they shared a quick, knowing glance—their contractual commitment was an unexpected blend of structure and discovery.

"Let's keep looking," Adrian said, optimism threading his words.

"Let's," Sierra echoed, the promise of finding their perfect compromise filling her with renewed vigor.

As the day waned, the montage of properties blurred into a rhythm of mutual concessions. A bay window here, too traditional for her taste but charming to his eye; a state-of-the-art kitchen there, sleek and efficient, yet perhaps too impersonal for a family.

"Family," Adrian said pensively as they stood in a cozy nook of the last property, twilight settling outside. "We should consider space for that...."

“I guess," Sierra said, a hint of warmth creeping into her voice. The thought of children had been distant and abstract, but with Adrian, it seemed a natural extension of the story they were crafting.

"Something with character," he added, "and light—a place that feels lived-in."

"Comfortable," she nodded in agreement, her smile softening as they reached the unspoken conclusion that their tastes weren't so disparate after all.

"Then it's settled," Adrian declared with a gentle finality. "We find something that feels like us—unique, a little unconventional, but...right."

"Right," Sierra said, her heart fluttered at the thought of their future home, a testament to the life they would build together—one of mutual respect.

"let's grab some clothes from your place for today. I'm sure we'll find what we’re looking for tomorrow. Are you hungry?” Adrian asked, taking her hand.