I fucking hate this place.
Gravel crunches beneath my boots as I weave through the garden. The fog has thickened, curling around the base of the trees like snakes. A shimmer of black catches my attention. Just beyond the gnarled tree line lies a hidden gem.
A pond—no—not a pond. A lake. Small enough to call it quaint, large enough to seem . . . endless.
The water is dark, black as oil and still as glass. The surface doesn’t even ripple. The fog clings to the shoreline like a misty barrier between what’s above and whatever’s lurking below.
I walk closer, drawn in as if some invisible chain tugs me forward. Forgotten stone benches dot the shore, overgrown with weeds.
The air is also colder here.
Heavier.
This place is wrong. So fucking wrong.
My reflection wavers in the water, distorted like some twisted version of myself. Did I lose that piece to Adrian last night? Or maybe it’s been gone longer than that.
He didn’t break me. The cracks have always been there—he just showed me.
A shadow flickers just at the edge of the lake, something barely visible in my periphery, vanishing the second I turn my head.
Nope. Not doing this. Not right now.
I step away from the water, ready to bolt back toward the house.
“Enjoying the view?”
I whip around, my heart lurching into my throat. Adrian stands behind me, as if he appeared out of nowhere, wearing yet another tailored suit and his goddamn mask.
Does this asshole own casual clothes?
My eyes narrow as I shove my hands into the front pocket of my sweatshirt. “Where’d you disappear to this morning?”
“Had some business.”
“Which requires you to wear your mask? Do you ever take the fucking thing off?”
He steps closer, a soft smile on his lips. “Why does it bother you so much?”
I shrug, not having an answer.
He turns me toward the water, gentle but firm. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? So much history here. So many stories buried beneath the surface.”
“Stories, huh? Like the ones you don’t tell guests before inviting them over?”
His hand slides down the front of my chest, stopping over my heart, pressing in like he owns everything beneath. “There are some things that are better experienced than explained.”
I roll my eyes, trying to shake off the tension and the pull of his presence. “Right. Thanks for the cryptic bullshit. So, this place has been in your family for generations? Must’ve been nice growing up here.”
“My association with the manor didn’t occur until after my great-grandfather had passed. I hadn’t known he knew of my existence . . . being I was a bastard child.” Adrian’s lips press into a thin line. “The will caused quite a stir, my siblings and father doing what they could to take the place away from me.”
“Ah, the mysterious Adrian is human after all.”
He turns to me, a slight tilt to his head and a brow quirked. “How so?”
I chuckle. “You know, fucked-up childhood. Just, most of us don’t have some secret billionaire great-grandfather gifting us mansions after they die.”
Adrian hums. “This place will show you who you really are, if you let it.”
