Chapter Eight
“This is some place,” Carl said as they drove up the long, wide driveway toward Sayen’s home four days later. Magnolia trees in flower bordered the pavement, their huge, creamy goblet-shaped flowers cupped toward the sky. “Sayen told me her family was well off, but I didn’t think she meant this well off.”
Jas had spoken into an intercom at the gates before their autocab had been allowed through. From there, it had been a five-minute drive through immaculate grounds to the house, or rather, the mansion. The cab stopped and they got out.
Jas didn’t normally ever think about the clothes she wore or how she looked, but it was impossible not to feel a little self-conscious in such an intimidating setting.
One of a pair of huge doors opened, and a maid in a traditional black an
