Allyson's POV
Reagan cut the engine and gently nudged my shoulder. Sleep had claimed me without warning during the drive.
"We've arrived."
I stretched awake, blinking away the drowsiness that clung to my eyelids. When my vision cleared, my spine went rigid.
This wasn't Reagan's modest loft. Before us stood an imposing mansion that belonged on the cover of architectural magazines. The property sprawled like a private compound, all elegant lines and expensive stone.
"Reagan, hold on..." My voice caught as I turned to face him. "This isn't your place. Where exactly are we?"
A slight smile played at his lips, completely unfazed by my confusion. "Technically speaking, this belongs to my father. He owns several properties like this one," he said, settling back into his seat with practiced nonchalance.
My brow furrowed. "You said we were heading to your apartment, not some sprawling estate that belongs to your dad."
