Travis Miller's stern face seemed covered in a layer of frost, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, knuckles starkly white.
The phone tossed on the passenger seat rang persistently, but Travis had no mind to answer it.
The black sedan sped down the road, cutting through the city streets, finally stopping outside a lavish mansion in the suburbs.
The black and gold gate slowly opened, and the villa in the distance, so luxurious it could be described as splendid, suddenly lit up from darkness as if sensing something.
The car drove into the estate and stopped outside the villa, where someone was already waiting, respectfully.
"Mr. Miller."
Travis did not respond, walking directly into the villa.
The entire villa was brightly lit, every corner immaculate, with sparkling windows, looking exactly as it did when she left years ago.
She supervised, chose the furniture herself, designed and arranged everything personally.
