ADRIAN’S POV
Something felt wrong the moment I stepped into my mansion.
Too many people. Too much noise.
And none of it was mine.
Three women rushed toward me at once. Their hands reach for my coat, my briefcase, even my arm.
“Welcome home, sir—”
“Let me take that—”
“You must be tired—”
I stopped mid-step.
“Don’t touch me,” I snapped.
They froze instantly.
I locked my teeth together as I pulled my coat back from one of them.
“How many times do I have to say it?” My voice dropped. “I don’t need nannies.”
Across the room, she stood.
Elegant. Composed. Watching me like she already owned everything in the house.
My mother—Lady Nyra.
Beside her, Isabella turned slowly before a full-length mirror, her fingers brushing the white fabric that hugged her body.
A wedding dress.
In m
