The unwelcome guest
Sam's POV
The massive iron gates of my grandfather's mansion creaked open as I drove up the long driveway, the grandeur of the estate looming before me. The sprawling gardens, neatly trimmed, contrasted sharply with the suffocating heaviness I felt every time I came here. It wasn't just the mansion, it was the history buried within its walls, the whispers of secrets that had been deliberately hidden from me.
As I stepped out of the car, I was greeted by a line of maids, their practiced politeness masking any real emotion.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Sam," one of them said with a slight bow.
"Where's Mrs. Bridget?" I asked, ignoring their rehearsed smiles.
"She's in the kitchen, sir," the maid replied.
I nodded, heading straight inside. My destination wasn't the kitchen, though; it was the study, the sacred space where my grandfather, the chairman of the family empire, had built his legacy.
