The gates opened slowly.
Not just physically.
Symbolically.
The black iron bars that guarded the Vale Estate parted with mechanical precision, revealing the long private drive lined with manicured hedges and towering white columns. The mansion stood at the end like a silent ruler overlooking the city—glass, stone, and authority.
I swallowed.
This wasn’t just a house.
It was a declaration.
“You don’t have to look so nervous,” Adrian said smoothly from beside me in the back seat. His voice was calm, unreadable, infuriatingly controlled.
“I’m not nervous,” I lied.
His gaze shifted to me. Dark. Assessing. Amused.
“You’re moving into the home of a man you betrayed,” he said quietly. “Nervous would be the healthy reaction.”
My chest tightened.
The car stopped.
The driver stepped out
