The heavy wrought-iron gates of the Davidson estate swung open, cutting through the thick, oppressive silence of the elite neighborhood. The Maybach glided down the long, winding driveway, its tires crunching softly against the crushed gravel. Behind them, the massive gates slammed shut with a heavy, metallic clang.
The mansion was completely dark, the grand facade looming against the night sky like an empty fortress with its towering glass windows reflecting nothing but the cold, distant moon.
Brian brought the luxury sedan to a smooth halt right under the grand portico. He cut the engine, and the sudden absence of the motor’s hum made the silence inside the car feel thick, almost suffocating.
In the back seat, Lucy remained completely still. She didn't move a muscle, keeping her eyes
