The Billionaire's Sunshine
Someone he was pulling into the eye of a storm, and he was terrified of what it might do to me.
As the car glided closer, the faint hum of the engine the only sound in the sudden, weighty silence, my eyes were drawn to the towering gate ahead—so much more imposing than any photograph had conveyed. Tall, black iron, honed to a razor-sharp elegance, with intricate golden patterns curling around a single, unmistakable letter in the center: L. For Lewiston. The gold glinted like ancient currency, catching the weak afternoon sun and throwing it back with an almost defiant gleam.
Bab Populer