The wrought iron gates parted like the jaws of a beast, revealing a driveway lined with century-old oaks, their branches strung with delicate fairy lights that twinkled like captured stars. Emma stepped out of the town car, her breath catching as she took in the Rodriguez mansion—a sprawling Venetian palazzo transplanted onto American soil, its limestone facade glowing golden in the afternoon sun.
She had been living like a ghost in Oliver’s manson, avoiding them in all cost. Going to work early and coming back as late as possible. But it was a day off and there was no way she wanted to come face to face with Oliver. Hence she decided to come to the banquet Margaret had invited her.
Fountains danced in the courtyard, their crystal waters reflecting the arched windows that stretched thr
