Ivy’s POV
The moment the car pulled up in front of the mansion, my heart skipped a beat.
It looked exactly the same.
The tall iron gates. The long driveway lined with trimmed hedges. The old stone walls that stood so tall and proud. The grand doors that once felt like prison gates now looked like a promise. My fingers tightened around the strap of my bag as the driver got out and opened the door for me.
I stepped out slowly, taking a breath.
The air here smelled like pine and roses—clean, strong, familiar. For so long, I thought I’d never come back. Or if I did, it would be as a prisoner again. But now… I was here on my own. No one dragged me. No one forced me. I came back because I wanted to.
Because I missed him.
Because part of me never really left.
As I walked toward the steps,
