Adrian’s POV
The gates opened slowly when we arrived, iron creaking like old bones. The estate looked different at night — beautiful and menacing, lights glowing in a few windows like watchful eyes. Security cars flanked us as we pulled up to the main house.
Richard waited on the steps, face half in shadow. Eleanor stood slightly behind him, arms wrapped around herself. Vanessa was nowhere in sight, but I could feel her like static in the air.
“Inside,” Richard said, voice clipped. “All of you.”
We followed him into the same formal sitting room. The fire crackled low in the hearth. Vanessa stood near the mantel, a glass of wine in her hand, looking like she owned the place.
“Adrian. Elena.” Her smile was polite poison. “So good of you to come. Alone, I hope?”
Elena’s grip on my hand
