Those doors. The kind of heavy oak monsters that moan like they’re auditioning for a haunted house, not just letting in a couple of people. Selene hesitated, heels clacking way too loud on that marble—like, who builds a place so echoey? Sandalwood and flowers hit her nose, but it felt like a cover-up, like the house was trying too hard to seem alive. She glanced up and, wow, those ceilings. Chandeliers everywhere, dripping crystals, throwing little rainbows around like confetti—a bit much, honestly, but okay, rich people.
Raymond was there too, looking like he’d just stepped out of a magazine ad for “Rich Guy of the Year.” Suit pressed, hair perfect, face totally unreadable except for this tiny spark in his eyes. Pride? Nerves? No clue. Staff followed behind, all bowing and blank-faced, p
