Ayla's POV
The drive was quiet, broken only by the low hum of the engine and the city lights slipping past the windows. Elena slept through most of it, her breathing slow and even, her head tilted toward the window. I kept one hand steady on the wheel, the other occasionally adjusting her seatbelt or making sure she had not shifted into an uncomfortable position.
When we finally arrived at the address on her dashboard, I slowed without realizing it.
The neighborhood, the building, everything about the place was beyond anything I had ever dreamed she could be living in.
Tall houses of glass and sandstone lined the streets, expensive cars rolling in and out with effortless ease. And in the middle of the white towering houses, hers rose before us. Tall and imposing, wrapped in glass and stone, its presence screamed nothing but luxury. It was not just expensive. It was powerful. The kind of place that did not need to announce its worth because everything about it already did.
