chapter 76
JACE MARINO
The drive to the mansion was silent, the kind of silence that filled the car like thick smoke. It was not uncomfortable and it was not tense in the way silence sometimes is when people avoid each other. It was simply heavy, familiar, the kind of quiet that came from three people who already understood what waited for them. Every mile that brought us closer to the Marino mansion reminded me of a cold weight settling over my chest. Walking through those doors always felt like stepping into ice water, like a shock that moved straight into the bones.
The gates opened the moment they saw our car approaching. There was no greeting from the guards, no polite nod or gesture, no attempt at civility. It was just access granted, nothing more than iron separating, metal shifting, permission without warmth. The place never pretended to be welcoming. It was only ever a place of business, a place of control.
