Crane's mansion sat on the western slope of Iron City's hill district, in a neighborhood where every house seemed designed to keep the rest of the world out. The road climbed in slow curves through sculpted trees, the kind that probably had their own gardener on salary.
Compared to Chloe's palatial estate, Crane's place wasn't quite as vast, but it had the kind of precision that money and pride could build. The double gate—steel framed with polished hardwood—stood open just enough for a valet to wave them forward.
"Park just past the fountain," the man in the black suit said, gesturing them along the circular drive.
Ryan eased the black K3 coupe into a space near the front steps. He stepped out, walked around to Chloe's side, and offered his arm. She slid hers through his, her silk dress brushing his sleeve.
A deep-blue sports car purred up the drive, its engine breathing like a beast in the night. Ryan didn't need to check the plates—he knew it was Kamara.
