Legacy
zayniiie
It was cold, clipped, and utterly devoid of the warmth that used to fill my small island home.
I pushed the doors open. The office was an expanse of glass and steel, overlooking the sprawling chaos of Makati. Luke was seated behind a desk that looked like it cost more than my parents’ farm. To my surprise, he wasn't alone. Mateo Velez was lounging in one of the leather armchairs, a glass of amber liquid in his hand and a relaxed smirk on his face.
"You’re on time, Martin," Luke said without looking up from his tablet. "Barely."
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