PENELOPE
Christian's parents lived in a mansion that could’ve passed for a presidential estate—grand gates, perfectly trimmed hedges, a circular driveway big enough to fit twenty cars. Security guards stood at every entrance, bodyguards stationed like statues.
It was intimidating.
The driver opened the door for me, and I stepped out, smoothing my red thigh-high slit dress, suddenly wondering if it was too much. Everyone was dressed elegantly, but my dress made me feel... noticed.
Christian was already walking ahead, buttoning his suit jacket like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on me by firing Tom last night.
The entrance doors were already open when we reached them, and Eve Hilton greeted us first, a warm smile on her face. “My darlings, you’re here!”
She pulled me into a hug, her sce
