Olivia Harrison finally blinked with satisfaction, a flash of malice glinting in her eyes as she let out a cold chuckle.
I had no idea what she was up to.
After moving into the villa my uncle bought for me—same neighborhood as Ronald Wright’s, but mine’s so big that we’re miles apart even if technically close—I started settling in.
The place has six floors, and the ceiling on the first floor alone is four meters high. The moment I stepped into the foyer, the luxury vibe hit me hard. The chandelier hanging from the ceiling had to be at least a meter and a half long, covered in sparkling crystals. Even unlit, it looked stunning.
I didn’t bother checking out the rest. The butler was all smiles, cheerfully introducing every corner. Only after George Harrison shot him a look did h
