Victor's limousine glided smoothly into the sprawling underground garage of the Anderson family mansion, its tires whispering against the pristine concrete floor. The chauffeur, a stoic man named Elias who had served the family for over fifteen years, hopped out with practiced efficiency and opened the rear door. Victor stepped out, nodding a brief thanks before making his way up the short flight of steps to the grand main entrance. The heavy oak doors, carved with intricate family crests, swung open effortlessly at his touch, revealing an interior that gleamed with obsessive perfection.Everything was squeaky clean, polished to a mirror shine—far beyond what he'd grown accustomed to. In recent weeks, Victor had hired a small army of additional maids, gardeners, and household staff to maintain the estate's impeccable standards. It had once been Gloria's domain, her personal passion project to keep the mansion in flawless condition. He had to admit, with a pang of reluctant admiration,
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