Aria POV
Marcus hadn’t changed at all.
He sat sprawled in the leather wingback chair near the fireplace, one leg crossed over the other like some king presiding over his court. His salt-and-pepper hair was slicked back with too much gel, and his expensive watch caught the light as he drummed his fingers against the armrest. The lines around his mouth had deepened—not from smiling, but from years of scowling and barking orders.
The living room had transformed completely since I’d last been here. Gone were the warm cream walls and family photos my mother had carefully arranged. Now everything screamed Selene’s mother’s taste—all white marble, gold accents, and crystal chandeliers that looked more like weapons than light fixtures. Abstract art that probably cost more than a car hung on wal
