Amara.
After one hour of just sitting in the car, I was growing bored.
Lucien had sent his driver to pick me up for the dinner at exactly eight. Prior to that, I had spent countless hours deliberating on what to wear.
I finally settled for a black bodycon dress and silver accessories. I was about to pull my phone out of my bag when I felt the car slow down.
I looked up to see a huge gate opening after the driver identified himself.
Through the gates, the driveway stretched, shadowed and silent, leading to the house.
When the house finally appeared, I did not think beautiful. I thought edifice.
God, it was an architectural statement.
Every line deliberate, every shadow exact. Lights glowed low, precise, unwelcoming. This was not a mansion to impress.
This was a world owned by someo
