SHADOWLESS LOVE

The car came to a halt at the first gate of Valentino. My gaze swept over the massive golden structure looming before us. The intricate designs etched into the gate glimmered under the moonlight, each stroke a testament to my great-grandfather's unparalleled craftsmanship. At the center of it stood a massive emblem—a wolf mid-howl—its eyes fierce and commanding, as if it were alive. The Wolf was our family symbol, representing loyalty, strength, and dominance. The sheer audacity of such an entrance made me smirk. Lucky? No, I was more than lucky. I was born into a dynasty of unparalleled wealth and power.

As the guards stationed by the gate bowed, a perfect ninety-degree display of submission, the iron monstrosity groaned open, revealing the second gate. This one was different, softer in design yet equally commanding. Crafted by my grandfather, its iron bars wove into an intricate pattern of roses, delicate but unyielding, each petal crafted with such precision that it seemed they would flutter away at the slightest breeze. It was an ode to my grandmother, the symbol of her family, the House of Lombard. My grandfather's love for her was the stuff of legends, to the point where he built this gate in her honor.

Cassian, sitting beside me, broke the silence, his voice dripping with amusement. "Lovesickness really does run in your family, doesn't it?" He gave me a teasing grin.

I tilted my head slightly, letting the comment linger before responding with my usual dry tone. "You sound jealous. No one's setting up gates for you, huh?"

Cassian groaned dramatically, clutching his chest as if wounded. "Touché, but it's not like I'd want some iron monstrosity in my honor. I'd prefer, I don't know, a golden fountain... or maybe a galaxy-themed pool."

Ignoring his theatrics, I watched as the final gate creaked open. It was 1 a.m., yet the Valentino Mansion stood in the distance, gleaming like a jewel under the winter moon. The expensive lighting bathed the mansion in an almost surreal glow. Every line of its golden architecture, every polished white marble pillar, screamed wealth. The cascading icicles hanging off the edges sparkled like diamonds, completing the mansion's frozen grandeur.

Cassian peered out the window and shuddered. "Are we inside Frozen? Is Elsa about to come out and sing me to death?"

I stifled a laugh, stepping out of the car as the biting winter air wrapped itself around me. "No singing princesses here, sadly."

He followed, rubbing his hands together furiously. "You mean to tell me we're staying in this ice palace? Tell me we're not, please." His eyes pleaded with me.

"What happened to your love for grandeur?" I quipped, smirking as I walked toward the main entrance.

"Grandeur is overrated when you're freezing to death," he grumbled, his voice muffled as he tucked his face into his scarf. "Warmth is luxury. This? This is torture."

"Poor Cassian," I teased, glancing back. "You're really struggling, aren't you?"

He glared at me. "If I die here, I'm haunting you for eternity."

The mansion's golden interior greeted us with its overwhelming opulence. Everything sparkled—from the diamond-studded chandeliers to the polished gold banisters. White marble floors stretched endlessly, their pristine surface reflecting the grandeur above. I let out a low whistle, feigning shock. "Wow. It's still... a sparkling egg."

Cassian raised a brow. "Sparkling egg?"

"You know, too golden. Too polished. Too... everything." I shrugged nonchalantly.

The sound of footsteps drew our attention to the grand staircase. My father emerged from the second floor, his presence as commanding as the mansion itself. Dressed casually in a gray sweatshirt and sweatpants, he exuded an effortless charm that belied his age. His navy-blue hair, streaked with silver at the temples, glinted under the chandelier's light. His sharp jawline and sculpted features could put any movie star to shame. And his eyes—deep crimson with an almost predatory glint—held a look of amused judgment as they landed on me.

"Well, well, look who decided to show up after eight long years," he drawled, his voice rich and teasing. "And you're already planning your escape, aren't you?"

I frowned. "What?"

He leaned casually against the railing, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "What an ungrateful son I have. Returns home after nearly a decade and immediately starts talking about moving back to his little café in the South."

"Hey, that 'little café' is a masterpiece," I shot back, crossing my arms. "And it's a thousand times better than this—this sparkling egg."

His eyes widened dramatically, and, before I could blink, a pink slipper came hurtling toward my head. "SPARKLING EGG? YOU DARE INSULT THE MOST BEAUTIFUL, LUXURIOUS HOUSE ON THIS PLANET?"

I ducked, narrowly avoiding the projectile. Cassian, standing to the side, burst into laughter. "Oh, this is better than I imagined."

Ignoring him, I smirked at my father. "You're too attached to this glitter palace, Dad. Maybe it's time you moved into something more... modest?"

"Modest?" His face turned a shade of red I hadn't seen in years. Another slipper—this time gold—soared through the air and smacked me square on the shoulder.

"Ow!" I groaned, rubbing the spot. "Seriously?"

My father let out a deep, hearty laugh, descending the stairs with the energy of someone half his age. "You've always had a smart mouth. Should've smacked some sense into you years ago."

Cassian, still laughing, chimed in. "Sir, if you need a hand, I'm happy to help discipline him."

I shot him a glare. "Traitor."

My father clapped a hand on my shoulder, grinning down at me. "Welcome home, son. Now stop whining about the cold. You've got Valentino blood. We don't complain. We adapt."

Cassian snorted. "Yeah, right. I'm freezing, and I'm adapting by complaining."

"You'll survive, Grey," my father said with a wink. "Or you won't. Either way, you're in Valentino territory now."