I raised my hand and knocked once. Solid. Measured. Loud enough to be heard, not loud enough to beg.
Then I waited.
Nala stood half a step behind me, close enough that I could feel her presence at my back, her posture straight, composed, CEO calm layered over quiet fury. If this turned into a negotiation, she was the blade I trusted. If it turned into something uglier, I'd handle the rest.
"So this is Anotta's place…" She murmured to herself.
The villa itself felt like a statement before the door even opened. Marble floors under my boots, tall white pillars framing the hallway, art that looked expensive enough to be insured separately. Even the air smelled curated—faint perfume, clean wood, something floral and cold. Money lived here. Power lounged comfortably in every corner.
Two guards stood at attention on either side of the door ahead of us. Black suits, earpieces, hands folded loosely but ready. They didn't look at us. They didn't need to.
