Draven.
By the time we drove through the tall iron gates and into my estate, the weight of the day had already settled on my shoulders like a cloak of smoke.
The cars slowed to a halt before the grand steps of the estate. Meredith was the first to open her door. I followed, stepping out into the fading light.
The air was calm, too calm—the kind that made your instincts sharpen.
Dennis and Jeffery climbed out of the second car, both looking as though they had been waiting to ask me what I thought of the meeting, but I raised a hand before either of them could speak.
"Let's take this inside," I said. "To my study. My wife has something to share."
They nodded immediately.
I reached for Meredith's hand, and she didn't hesitate. Her fingers slipped easily into mine, soft but firm, and together, we stepped inside the house.
Behind us, Dennis and Jeffery followed, their boots clicking in a steady rhythm on the marble floor.
