It was a statement.
Power. Wealth. Control.
A fountain stood at the center of the courtyard, water cascading in smooth, continuous streams that sparkled like scattered diamonds under the sun.
It was overwhelming.
In a completely different way.
This wasn’t the open wonder of the sky.
This was... intimidating.
I realized, with a small, almost disbelieving breath, that everything I had imagined while blind—every mental map I had built—had been hopelessly inadequate.
This place was far bigger.
Far more intricate.
Far morereal.
Ramiro parked the car smoothly.
I stepped out slowly, my gaze lifting, tracing the height of the structure, the symmetry, the sheer scale of it.
For a moment, I forgot to breathe.
“Welcome home,” Ramiro said quietly.
Home.
The word settled strangely in my chest.
He guided me inside—not with insistence, but with a subtle awareness of my pace.
The doors opened.
And the interior unfolded before me like something out of a dream.
The entrance hall was vast—cathedral-like in its height and openness.
The ceiling soared above, adorned with intricate chandeliers that caught the light and scattered it in soft, golden reflections across the room.
I turned slowly, taking it all in, trying to reconcile this reality with the version I had lived in for so long.
“This way,” Ramiro said.
I followed his gesture.
“That’s your room,” he added, pointing toward a set of elegant double doors on the ground floor to the left.
My room.
Then he lifted his hand toward the sweeping staircase that curved upward with effortless grace.
“And that,” he continued, “is Rafael’s room.”
My gaze followed the line of the staircase, climbing higher, settling on the upper level.
