Villain Ch 1955. Home and Turtleneck
The gates of the Goldborne estate opened without a sound. The automatic system scanned his car and authorized it before the driver even had to tap a button. Smooth, discreet, expensive—just like everything else about the mansion he hadn't missed.
The drive curved up to the circular entrance. Security lights blinked green. Garden torches flickered in perfectly timed sync. The front door opened automatically when he stepped out, his suitcase wheels clicking against the polished stone like clockwork.
Inside, the marble floors were spotless. Too spotless. The air was faintly perfumed with lemon verbena and something warmer—vanilla cedar, maybe. Clean and distant. Like a hotel lobby pretending to be a home.
