CHAPTER 194: THE FIRST LADY’S MANSION

The car glided silently through the early morning, the engine’s hum barely audible over the soft crunch of tires on the snow-dusted road. Outside, the world was a painting of pale blues and whites, with light snowflakes drifting lazily from a gray sky.

I sat in the backseat, my breath fogging the window as I stared out, lost in the quiet beauty of it all. My fingers traced idle patterns on the cold glass, my mind a million miles away.

The driver—or maybe he was a bodyguard, I wasn’t sure—glanced at me through the rearview mirror. His name was stitched on his jacket: Marcus. He had a square jaw, a buzz cut, and eyes that seemed to notice everything without trying too hard.

"Everything okay back there, Mr. Ezra?" His voice was low, steady, like he was used to keeping things calm.

I shifted in my seat, the leather creaking under me. "Yeah, it’s fine," I said, my voice flat. I didn’t feel like talking, not after the morning I’d had.

Marcus didn’t push right away. He kept his eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the gearshift. The car was some fancy black sedan, the kind that screamed money without being too flashy. Mrs. Elizabeth’s style, I figured. After a moment, he glanced at me again. "That woman earlier, the one you were talking to—who was she?"

My stomach twisted. I’d been hoping he hadn’t noticed her. I opened my mouth to say something, then stopped short. My mom? My girlfriend? Neither was true, not really. She wasn’t my mom, and she sure as hell wasn’t my girlfriend yet.

I leaned back, crossing my arms. "Why do you care?" I asked, my tone sharper than I meant it to be.

Marcus chuckled, a low rumble that filled the car. "Fair enough. Sorry for prying, man. It’s just... Mrs. Elizabeth was worried about you."

I frowned, turning to look at his reflection in the mirror. "Worried? Why? It’s not like we’re old friends or anything."

He shrugged, his broad shoulders shifting under his jacket. "Yeah, I know. But she’s got a thing about people. Notices stuff. She mentioned you hadn’t called her back and she got this look—like she needed to check on you herself."

I raised an eyebrow, sinking deeper into the seat. "Huh. That’s... weird." I dragged out the words, my mind spinning.

The road curved, and the car slipped into a tunnel carved into the side of a mountain. The world outside vanished, replaced by the dim glow of orange lights flashing past. The hum of the tires echoed faintly off the stone walls, and for a moment, it felt like we were driving through some forgotten underworld.

I unfolded my arms, leaning forward. "So, Marcus, you got any idea why she wants to see me? Like, what’s this all about?"

He shook his head, his eyes flicking to the mirror again. "Trust me, man, I’m as in the dark as you are. I’ve been working for the Elizabeths for ten years, and I still don’t always get her. But I know that look she gets—kinda desperate, like she’s got something on her mind. That’s how she was when she told me to pick you up."

I sighed, slumping back. "I see.."

The tunnel’s end appeared, a circle of pale daylight growing larger. The car rolled out into the open, the snowy landscape now glowing softly in the morning sun. I rubbed my hands together, trying to shake off the chill that wasn’t just from the cold.

Marcus broke the silence. "So, what do you do, by the way?"

"Website designing," I said, keeping my voice flat. It was a lie, one I’d told before, but it still burned inside. No way I could tell him the truth—that I am a male prostitute who works at Heaven’s Feel, a high-end brothel, doing things I wasn’t proud of. The thought made my chest tight, but I pushed it down, staring out the window.

"Oh," Marcus said, raising an eyebrow. "I doubt she needs a website designed, though."

I forced a laugh. "Hehe, yeah, me too."

He didn’t push further, focusing on the road as the car wound through the snowy hills. About ten minutes later, the landscape opened up, and a massive mansion came into view. It was like something out of a movie—huge iron gates, stone walls, and a driveway that seemed to go on forever. Guards in dark coats stood at the entrance, their eyes scanning us as we approached. One of them nodded at Marcus, and the gates creaked open, revealing a sprawling estate. A marble fountain stood in the center of the courtyard, water sparkling as it flowed, flanked by neat ponds lined with frost-covered reeds.

Marcus pulled the car up to the front, the tires crunching on the gravel.

He turned off the engine and glanced back at me. "Here we are. Wait in the hall, and Mrs. Elizabeth will be there soon." He stepped out, and I followed, my boots sinking slightly into the thin layer of snow.

The front door was already opening as we approached, held by a guard who didn’t say a word. Marcus gave me a quick nod and disappeared down a side hall, leaving me to step into the mansion alone.

The entrance hall was massive, all polished marble and glass, with a chandelier overhead that caught the light like a frozen waterfall. The air was warm but eerily quiet, the kind of silence that made you feel small. My eyes drifted to the walls, lined with old paintings—portraits of stern-looking people in fancy clothes, landscapes that looked quite old.

"Whoa, lots of ancient art in here," I muttered under my breath, stepping closer to one painting, a dark, moody scene of a stormy sea.

A soft clink broke the silence. I turned to see a young woman in a crisp white-and-black apron setting a silver tray on a small table nearby.

"Here, sir, have some juice and snacks while you wait for Mrs. Elizabeth," she said, her voice polite but clipped, like she had a million other things to do.

The tray held a glass of mixed fruit juice and a plate of neatly arranged pastries and cookies, the kind that looked too perfect to eat.

"Thanks," I said, giving her a small smile. She nodded and vanished through a side door, her footsteps fading into the quiet.

I stood there, alone in the massive hall, the weight of the morning pressing down on me.