The Cross Family
The estate didn’t appear all at once — it unveiled itself in layers: gardens, fountains, stone paths, then finally—
The house.
Or “house” was too humble a word. The Cross estate rose from a clearing like something carved from old wealth and even older history — vast walls of pale stone, sweeping windows, carved balconies, sprawling wings. Jayla sat frozen in the backseat, hands gripping her bag like it was a seatbelt.
She wasn’t intimidated easily.
She worked, she survived, she endured.
But this?
This was a world built on money she’d never even imagined, foundations laid with generational power.