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On the road, Nick won’t tell me where we’re going. I’ve asked at least ten times by now. Maybe more.

He just keeps driving—one hand on the wheel, the other holding mine across the center console, his thumb drawing lazy circles on my skin.

“Where are we going, Nick?” I ask again, resting my head slightly on the back of the seat, my voice a soft blend of curiosity and mild frustration. “Come on. Tell me already.”

He chuckles, not taking his eyes off the road.

“Two more minutes. Promise.”

We’ve been driving for half and hour, the city falling further and further behind us.

Now we’re in a quiet neighborhood on the edge of London, where the houses are spread far apart and the properties are massive. Everything is green and still—the kind of place where time seems to slow down, as if it is no longer in a rush to prove anything.

Finally, Nick slows the car and pulls up in front of an enormous gate. It’s solid and tall, blocking any view of what lies beyond.

My eyebrows lift. “Where are we?” I shiver, straightening up in my seat.

Nick rolls down his window. Calm. Focused. He punches a code into a black security panel. A soft beep echoes. Then he places his hand against a scanner. The light blinks green, and with a quiet hum, the massive gate begins to open.

Slowly.

And when it does—when the view unveils itself—my breath catches in my throat and just stays there.

I can’t speak.

My heart is suddenly thundering so loudly I can barely hear the low sound of the car engine.

My eyes sweep across the land in front of us—wide and impossibly green, stretching beyond what I can fully take in. It’s not just big—it’s breathtaking. A hidden world tucked away at the edge of the city, waiting quietly behind gates that now feel almost sacred.

Dozens of houses line the winding paths, each spaced generously apart, each standing strong and confident on its own plot of land.

They’re all roughly the same size—balanced, grounded, meant to coexist like parts of something bigger. No single home screams for attention. Instead, they speak to each other in harmony. Like a community built not for strangers, but for something deeper. For something chosen.

My fingers curl tighter around his hand.

The land between them is alive—manicured grass, soft slopes, shaded corners, new trees just beginning to take root. There’s something almost cinematic about it. Like a dream that was carefully drawn, then brought to life by someone who knew exactly what they wanted it to mean.

I can’t stop blinking. The air feels heavier now, thick with something more than surprise. The tests in my pocket press lightly against my waist, their weight suddenly real, suddenly charged. My stomach twists—not from nausea, not from nerves—but from awe.

To the left are green lawns, bright playgrounds, shaded pergolas. To the right are pools, outdoor kitchens, gardens, swings. And directly ahead, wide paved paths wind between houses, leading to the only one lit up, perched slightly higher—like a quiet center to it all.

“Nick…” I whisper, eyes wide. “What is this? What am I looking at?”

He finally glances over at me, his face filled with something that makes my chest ache—pride, hope, maybe even a bit of nervousness.

“Our future,” he says simply.

The engine hums to life again as he slowly starts driving forward. He pulls the car to a slow stop at the very end of the road, the homes feeling more like sanctuaries from here—carved into the landscape itself. He turns to me, his voice soft but filled with meaning.

“Welcome home, Sierra.”

I freeze.

Our home?

I step out of the car before he can do it and come open my door—because suddenly I forget how to breathe. Because before me rises a house that doesn’t just exist—it commands admiration. A masterpiece of modern architecture, unlike anything I’ve ever seen.

The structure unfolds over multiple levels, almost like it’s grown naturally out of the rocky hillside, sleek and powerful. Concrete, glass, and steel blend together in clean, geometric harmony—bold, daring lines softened by the way the exterior lighting dances across the textures.