They finally arrived at the residence Falcon would be staying in—though calling it a residence felt like an understatement.
It was an estate. Not grand in the way of polished marble and towering gates, but something older… heavier. The kind of place that had existed long before it was meant to welcome outsiders, its walls carrying the weight of years, of secrets that had settled deep into its foundation. The moment Falcon stepped through the entrance, he felt it—the shift.
Eyes.
Watching.
Not openly. Not boldly.
But present.
Lingering in corners, behind half-open doors, through reflections in polished surfaces. Silent observations that measured, judged, and memorized.
Falcon noticed.
Of course he did.
But he chose to ignore it—for now.
"This way," Destene said, her tone light as she moved ahead, as though she either didn't notice the tension… or was used to it.
