⋅•⋅⊰∙∘⋆✼♡✽⋆∘∙⊱⋅•
The limo pulled up smoothly to the sweeping circular driveway of Xavier's mansion, its impressive stone facade towering against the New Athens skyline like some splendid fortress made of polished marble and tall windows.
But any quiet relief I might have felt vanished the moment the door opened.
Bruh, what the actual fuck?
Cameras flashed wildly around us, creating a blinding chaos, the sharp clicks and whirs blending into an overwhelming noise that made my ears ring.
A throng of paparazzi and reporters surged forward, pushing against a flimsy barrier of security tape, their voices rising in a cacophony of shouted questions that hit me like a slapstick comedy moment.
"Xavier Fairchild! Did you really mate with your personal assistant in secret?" one reporter shouted, thrusting a microphone forward as if it were a weapon.
"Theodore Pierce! Rumor has it you're already pregnant! What's the due date?"
God forbid!
