Dahlia's POV
The morning sun barely broke through the clouds when Soren escorted me directly back to Weston City.
Our plane touched down on the private airstrip, where a sleek black convoy waited in perfect formation.
The cars whisked us away to Zenith Hall, nestled along the pristine shores of Serene Lake.
When we pulled up to the imposing three-story villa, I caught my breath. The property sprawled across manicured grounds, every inch designed for complete seclusion. Word was that several Hollywood directors and A-list stars had chosen this exclusive enclave for their own retreats.
Soren guided me through the grand entrance where a line of impeccably dressed staff stood at attention.
An elegant gentleman in his sixties approached with measured steps. His silver hair was perfectly styled, gold-rimmed spectacles perched on his nose, and his tailored black suit spoke of refined taste.
"Meet Kellan Palmer, our butler," Soren said with casual authority.
