KIERAN’S POV
After a very long drive we finally arrived at Silas Vance’s. The estate is quite big and quiet. A man walked up to us.
"Good afternoon. I am Mr. Vance’s estate manager. Please, follow me," he said as he led us through a sun-drenched conservatory toward a stone patio.
"Mr. Vance will be with you shortly," the estate manager said stiffly. "Please, make yourselves comfortable."
I couldn't sit. I paced the length of the patio, checking the time on my watch every ten seconds. "James said he’s a stickler for tradition," I muttered, mostly to myself. "If he sees the stock reports before we sign, we're dead."
Sienna wasn't listening. She was staring at a large, ceramic pot in the corner of the conservatory where the midday sun was beating down the hardest.
"Kieran," she whi
