Azriel's Point Of View
When I got home, the gates were already open.
They always are.
The estate sat on the hill like a predator pretending to be architecture. Black stone. Steel railings. Bulletproof glass reflecting the city lights below. From a distance it looked modern and expensive. Up close, it felt like a fortress that had survived too many wars to care about aesthetics anymore.
The security detail straightened as my car rolled in. No smiles. No unnecessary words. In our world, familiarity was a liability.
The car's engine growled as it tore through the winding roads leading up to the estate, the headlights cutting through the thick darkness like knives.
The Corvanni compound loomed ahead, a monstrous sprawl of black marble and steel, its towering gates adorned with the family crest… a serpent coiled around a dagger, the motto Sanguis et Potestas (Blood and Power) etched beneath it in cold, unyielding metal.
