We came to a halt at a large iron gate with a royal crest designed on it. The guards let us through and we made our way to a house that sat at the very top of the hill.
It was not what I was expecting when Warren told me that we were going to his summer home. I had thought it would be something similar to the palace.
Luxury. Extravagance. Grandeur.
But this place was quaint, beautiful and peaceful.
Warren let go of my hand and stepped out of the car without a single word. I did the same and inhaled the fresh scent of the area. I could hear the faint humming of birds in the forests that surrounded us.
Demarco's car came to a halt behind ours and he stepped out dressed in a black suit and sunglasses. Even without seeing his eyes, anyone could tell that he was a man in pain.
Warren
