The drive back to the mansion was silent, almost painfully so. The streets were empty, the city’s late-night hum reduced to a faint murmur behind the thick windows of his black sedan. Rain had begun to fall lightly, leaving the asphalt glistening under streetlights, and Colden’s expression remained unchanged as he navigated the slick roads.Inside him, however, a storm raged quietly. Each thought was sharp, precise, circling back to Layla. He hadn’t expected the impact. She wasn’t just any girl he could dismiss; she had a fire, an independence, a refusal to be treated like a tool without consequence.The mansion loomed ahead, lights dimmed, quiet as if awaiting his return. Colden’s hand gripped the steering wheel a little tighter as he parked, his mind already scanning for any potential distractions or threats. The grand doors opened with a whisper. He moved silently through the hallways, aware of each shadow, each shift of light. And then he saw her.Layla was asleep on the couch in
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