I nod.
“Okay.”
The drive feels longer than it probably is. Quiet. Heavy in a way that isn’t uncomfortable, just… expectant.
When the car finally slows, I lean slightly toward the window, and my breath catches. The gates alone are enough to take my breath away.
Tall.
Iron.
Security posted on either side. They open before we even stop, the car gliding through like we belong here, like this is ours. The driveway curves slowly, revealing more with every second, and then I see he house.
No. Not a house.
An estate.
Expansive.
Two-story.
Old-world elegance with modern precision layered over it, every light warm, every line intentional.
My mouth parts slightly.
“Whose house is this?” I whisper.
The car stops.
Before I can process anything further, Elijah is already out, walking around to my side, opening the door and offering me his hand.
I take it automatically, stepping out, still staring.
“This is ours,” he says.
I blink.
“What do you mean… ours?”
He watches me carefully.
“Bellandi property,” he says. “But this...” his hand tightens slightly around mine, grounding, anchoring “this is our home.”
Something inside me tilts.
“Elijah… what did you do?”
His expression doesn’t change.
“Our family is growing,” he says simply. “And that apartment isn’t built for what we are anymore. I wanted somewhere private. Secure.”
Jackson lets out a low whistle behind me.
“Fucking hell.”
Zach huffs a quiet laugh.
“Of course you did this.”
