Six Months Later.
The Villa at Lake Geneva, Switzerland.
The crisp autumn air carried the sharp, sweet scent of mountain pine and damp earth across the golden hills framing Lake Geneva. Below the villa’s sprawling stone terrace, the calm waters mirrored the clear blue afternoon sky, completely untouched by the stormy corporate wars and dark syndicate shadows that had once threatened to tear two families apart.
Inside the sun-drenched nursery on the second floor, sunlight streamed through tall French doors, warming the pale oak floors and soft cream tapestries. The ambient noise of the estate was low and rhythmic–the distant rustle of falling leaves, the gentle lap of the lake against the lower stone docks, and the quiet, steady ticking of a grandfather clock in the gallery.
Ethan Kings
