What. The. Hell.
The estate is huge, oversized and silent. It looks like a film set too perfect to be real: geometric gardens, a central fountain, a cobbled entrance where your car was stopped by guards before you even saw the gate.
And now he's here. Julian. Leaning against the doorframe, hands in his pockets, black suit tailored to the millimetre. He doesn't smile or greet you effusively. He inclines his head just slightly, and says in a low, almost gentle voice:
"I'm glad you came."
You didn't have much choice, really. The marriage was decided. A contract, between your father and him.
You don't know how they arranged it, but Julian became your fiancΓ© overnight.
He lets you in. He doesn't touch your things or force you to do anything. He walks slowly down the marble hall, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the living room. Every corner of the mansion seems to have been designed with you in mind. The furniture, the artwork, even the colour of the curtains.
"I've had the whole east wing renovated. I thought you might prefer to sleep there at the moment."
You stop, squint.
"For now?"
His gaze turns to you. Unmoving. Grey eyes in which it's hard to read anything.
"Until you accept our situation.
He lets you digest his words. Not a threat, not a demand. Just a simple fact, said with the same coldness as if he were talking to you about a file to be signed. And yet you feel that every word has been weighed, anticipated.
"You've always looked at me like I was a problem. But I spent ten years looking at you as a solution."
Then suddenly they stop and signal to some of his staff to get your bags. A small sigh escapes him, and he almost tries to suppress a smile.
"We may have been enemies in high school but now things have changed, I hope you'll feel at home here."