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IRIS
My heart pounded on the drive from the airport to Lucien’s house. Duran was quiet and his jaw stayed locked. Fire simmered in the depths of his lowered gaze. Like he was already rehearsing what he was going to tell his brother in his head and it was making him angry.
His silence scared me.
We pulled up at the end of a circular drive and my jaw dropped. The house was enormous and shockingly lavish. There was a brand new Tesla parked by the fountain outside. Duran didn’t seem to notice—but then this was his childhood home. He just got out and circled the car with a grim expression.
He wore his sunglasses, his black button up, and his black pants and shoes. There was a closed off aura about him.
Like he was preparing for something unpleasant.
“Are you okay?” I whispered, letting him help me out onto the gravel.
He nodded once. The warm, hardness of his palm hovered on my lower back and ushered me up the front steps to the porch. I paused to smooth my hair and push it back, wondering if my simple, short sundress was fancy enough.
I hadn’t realized we were going to a palace.
Duran hit the bell and I heard it echo in the hall.
“I thought you lived here,” I said.
He shook his head. “Sometimes I do, but since Olivia moved in, I give them some space. I have an apartment in the city.”
“Olivia?” I murmured.
“My brother’s fiancé,” he said.
“Oh, right, I remember.”
There was a short silence and a woman in jeans and a sweatshirt pushed the door open. She was carrying a bag of cleaning supplies.
“Mr. Esposito,” she said, stepping back. “I’m just here for the day. Usual staff will be back tomorrow.”
“Did Lucien give them the day off?”
She nodded. “It’s a federal holiday, sir.”
“Oh, right,” he said, taking my hand and leading me into the foyer.
My eyes weren’t big enough to take in my lavish surroundings properly. This house looked like a mini Versailles. Heavy draperies, polished floors, a spiral staircase. Everything had a fresh, clean scent and there was a faint breeze moving in from the hall.
“Where’s my brother?” Duran asked.
“Upstairs,” she said, shutting the door behind us. “He asked that you wait in the living room. I set out food and coffee there, sir.”
“Thank you,” Duran said.
She disappeared down the hall to my right and complete silence fell. Duran flicked his wrist to check his watch.
“Your family’s house is nice,” I commented.
“Well, all the money in the world still can’t buy you a stable childhood,” said Duran, an edge to his voice. “It’s not my favorite place in the world.”
He strode across the floor, his dress shoes clicking, and opened a large door to the left. He gravitated towards a bar on the far side where he poured himself a drink. I ducked through and found myself turning in slow circles to take in the opulent living space as I moved to join him.
“It’s nine,” I said, frowning at his drink.
“I know,” he said, taking a sip of whiskey. “Have some coffee.”
