A sleek black Pagani purred along the winding private drive, cutting through the lush green estates of the city's ritziest neighborhood. Though Dorian had taken this same route countless times growing up, the sprawling family mansion looming ahead somehow looked imposing and foreign to him now. Like a granite mausoleum sealed shut, holding only the dead weight of unhappy memories.
He gripped the leather steering wheel tighter, half-regretting having agreed to this ill-advised "family lunch." But Alexandra had been unrelentingly insistent when she had ambushed him earlier at the office.
"You can't avoid us forever," she scolded, mouth set in that familiar stubborn line so reminiscent of their late father's disapproving scowl. "Whether you like it or not, this inheritance s**t-storm affect
