The car door opened, and Adrian stepped out first, his hand extended back to help me. I took it, my palm damp against his, and emerged into the crisp morning air. The estate was even more imposing up close—the stone facade weathered by time but impeccably maintained, the windows reflecting the pale blue sky like mirrors of polished glass.
"Ready?" Adrian asked, his thumb brushing reassuringly over my knuckles.
"No," I admitted.
He smiled—that devastating, knee-weakening smile that had become far too familiar in the past two days. "Good."
Before I could ask what he meant by that, the massive front door swung open, and a woman stepped out onto the portico. She was elegant in a way that transcended age, her silver hair swept into a sophisticated chignon, her figure draped in a silk dress
