AnastasiaThe dark glass surface of the lake was completely still, reflecting the thick curtain of pine trees and the heavy, grey clouds gathering over the northern hills.It was our final evening at the lake house. The four days had passed like a quiet, beautiful dream, far away from the concrete streets, the flashbulbs of news cameras, and the endless stream of legal papers back in the city. For four days, we hadn't talked about my father’s gambling debt. We hadn't talked about Julian Moretti, the court trials, or the stolen trust agreements. We had eaten lazy meals on the terrace, walked along the dirt paths through the woods, and slept deeply in the quiet dark.I stood in the large kitchen, packing a wooden crate with the leftover fruit, bread, and glass bottles of juice we hadn't finished.Damien walked into the kitchen, his heavy footsteps echoing softly against the clean wooden floorboards. He wore a dark grey sweater with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows and a pair of casua
Leer más
INICIAR SESIÓN
