Tyler opens his mouth like he wants to say more, but then he looks at me, really looks, and something in his eyes softens.
“Call me, okay?”he signs.
I nod. I think I do it too fast.
He sighs and starts to pull back, then pauses, looking at Alex,
“Don’t make me regret trusting you.”
With that, he walks away, and the door closes.
I sit there frozen, eyes glued to the now-closed door, my chest tight. Alex doesn’t say anything right away. Then I hear him chuckle under his breath—barely there.
“This is the first time in my life someone has ever threatened me,” he says simply in an amused tone. I don’t say anything but just stare at my hands in my lap.
“he cares about you,” Alex adds softly, looking at me.
“I don’t deserve him,” I whisper before I can stop myself. I can feel the weight of Alex’s gaze even though I don’t look up.
***
The drive is silent the rest of the way, and forty-five minutes later, the car begins to slow down. I sit up straighter, pressing my hands against my lap to keep them from trembling. My palms are clammy—the engine hums, gliding us past tall trees.
The black gates are already opening. Outside, men dressed in sharp black suits stand guard, earpieces tucked in, shoulders squared. One of them gives a slight nod toward the car.
I glance at Alex beside me. His face is unreadable, all cool edges and calm.
As we pass through the gates and into the long driveway, the estate stretches out before me like something out of a painting.
The mansion is a massive three-story structure, with warm, golden lights that shine behind its towering windows. The stone exterior is a creamy off white, the rooftops are dark and pointed, like the silhouette of a crown against the sky.
At the center of the circular driveway, a grand fountain sprays water in soft arcs. It’s beautiful, not the usual cold marble kind I’d expect. The base is carved with delicate lotus petals, and gold-tinted koi fish circle the edge, their forms smooth like the kind you’d see in temple murals.
Other luxury cars are parked along the circular path—sleek, foreign machines that shine like obsidian under the soft lighting.
There’s a line of servants at the grand entrance, dressed in uniform black with silver accents. Two of them move forward as the car stops, opening the door in perfect sync. I hesitate. My heart is racing. My mouth is dry.
Alex steps out, and I couldn’t help but do the same. He comes close to me and puts his hands at the small of my back, leading me towards the entrance stairs.
“Are you good?” He asks, voice low.
“No,” I reply shakily, “I’m pretty sure I’m going to pass out.”
He stops walking and looks at me softly.
You won’t,” he says finally, “I’m right here.”
And with that, he leads me towards the front door.
***
The room is full.
Alex had led us into this room as soon as we were in the grand foyer of the mansion.
Everywhere I look, there are people—men in clean-cut suits, women dressed in flowing silk and diamonds. They talk in low voices, laughing and clinking glasses filled with wine. The space feels alive, warm with golden lighting and the soft swell of string music coming from the corner of the room. A violinist is playing something delicate.
I would have loved to admire the rich interior more if I weren’t so nervous.
