Brandon's POV
The gates of the Ross estate slid open before my truck even came to a complete stop.
The tall, black iron bars were trimmed in gold—subtle enough to be classy, yet loud enough to remind anyone driving past that this wasn't just a house; it was a legacy.
The driveway arced around a circular fountain—three tiers of sculpted marble spilling water into a glowing basin, lit from underneath. Beyond it stood the main house: a white stone exterior, tall arched windows, and black-framed glass stretching two floors high. The balconies were lined with wrought-iron rails and soft, warm lights that activated automatically at dusk.
Home.
A reminder of how established we were.
