Page 80 of Sweet Nightmare
Endless white.
Dark trees.
Mountains dissolving into the night.
The longer I stare, the stranger the feeling in my chest becomes.
It's as though someone gathered every beautiful thing about winter, stripped away everything ordinary, and built a mansion in the middle of it.
My eyes travel across the property.
An infinity pool sits beneath a glass enclosure, protected from the snow.
A long stone terrace wraps around one side of the mansion.
Tiny lights glow beneath the snow along winding paths, leading toward places I can't quite make out.
Farther up the mountain, another building stands between the trees.
A guesthouse, perhaps.
My eyes narrow.
Who exactly owns this place?
The rapper?
So many questions and zero answers.
Exactly the kind of situation I hate with a passion.
I like facts. Names. Numbers. Schedules. Things that can be organized into neat little boxes and dealt with accordingly.
Mystery is just another word for incompetence.
And yet here I am, standing on the edge of what looks like a stranger’s private winter kingdom, with no idea what the hell I’ve been dragged into.
Greaaaaat.
Lost in my thoughts, I barely notice when the SUV finally comes to a stop.
For a moment, I stay where I am.
Just sitting there.
Staring.
Minho eventually steps out and opens my door.
Cold air rushes inside.
It slips beneath my coat and wraps around me, sharp enough to reach my bones despite the layers of fabric between us.
God, I love it.
The colder, the better.
At least cold makes sense.
