Chapter 16 016
FREYA POV
I knew I lacked any sort of steeze right now, simply because as they led me inside, my eyes got wider—every hook, every corner, I was staring like a tourist. There were men in suits everywhere—at least one or two standing guard at every single entrance we passed.
It made me straighten my back without even realizing it.
We walked deeper into the house until we reached a quieter section of the hall. My attention snagged on a large framed portrait hanging alone on the wall. A massive framed portrait of a woman in her late 50s. She had these sharp, piercing eyes and dark, elegant curls that fell perfectly around her face. If I wasn't mistaken, there was a striking resemblance to Steve.
One of the men reached for a set of double doors and pushed them open. I stepped in and literally lost my breath. The living room was majestic, with ceilings so high I felt like I was standing in a cathedral. Everything was marble, gold, and glass. I was still trying to take it all in, my brain struggling to process the sheer scale of it, when one of the men spoke.
"Nana will come to attend to you shortly. She’ll probably give you a tour around the place."
I only heard half of what he said because my head was spinning. I couldn't even imagine how many rooms were in a place like this.
"No tour for now," a raspy, older voice came from behind us.
I spun around. An elderly woman was walking toward us, looking like she stepped out of a classic film. She must have been in her late 70s, with a crown of thick, snowy gray hair styled perfectly. She wore a long, flowing silk kaftan in a deep emerald green, with pearls draped around her neck that looked very real. Despite the wrinkles on her face, her eyes were sharp and full of life.
The men immediately bowed their heads to her. She gave them a short, regal nod, then glanced down at the gold watch on her wrist.
"It’s late already," she said, her voice firm but not unkind. "We should be talking about her getting some rest and something to eat, not dragging her on a tour."
She turned those sharp eyes on me, and for a second, I froze. But then, her face softened into a warm, genuine smile.
"I’m Naomi," she said, stepping closer. "But you can call me Nana."
She reached out, her hand light as a feather as she touched my arm.
"Welcome home, daughter."
I didn’t even know the right way to answer her. My brain was fried. I managed to let out a weak “hmmmm” sound, the kind of noise you make when you're too overwhelmed to form actual words.
Nana didn't seem to mind. She led me down another hallway and opened a set of double doors. I thought the living room was a lot, but this bedroom was another level of breathtaking, and definitely this can’t be where I will sleep. It was huge, airy, and smelled like expensive vanilla. Nana ushered me in, pointing toward the bathroom, but I stopped dead.
Right there was a massive vanity mirror surrounded by lights, stocked with every makeup kit and skincare brand. I was still trying to wrap my head around that when Nana walked over and slid open the closet doors.
Holy shit.
The closet was a room in itself, and it was packed. Rows of clothes, shoes, and bags—all in my size.
"How?" The word finally escaped my mouth. It had been running around my head since I stepped out of the car. It was only this morning that I’d arrived at the gym. How did he come up with all of this?
Nana smiled at me, like she could read the total confusion on my face. "All of this was prepared four days ago," she said.
"Four days ago?" I whispered. My heart sank. That was just a day after Steve appeared on my doorstep as a "gym guy." Did he know I would come back? Did he believe it that much? Why, why, why? A million questions were wrapping around my head.
"He really smiled a lot that night," Nana said, her voice soft. "That smile has been missing for a very long time, but I guess you brought it back."
I was so confused by what she was saying, and I guess she could tell, but she just brushed it off. "You should freshen up and come downstairs to eat," she said, starting to walk away.
But in a second, I caught her hand. I held it back, desperate.
"No, please. Tell me everything. Who the hell is Steve? Why did he do all this for me?"
Nana looked at me. I knew I was being pushy and stressing an elderly woman, but I wished she had an idea of how crazy I was feeling right now. She let out a deep breath and sat me down on the edge of the bed.
Then, she started to tell me.
"So," I said, trying to process her words after she finished. "You’re saying I’m the first woman Steve will ever bring to this house?"
"In all these years," Nana nodded, her eyes serious. "He had a sister... a cousin that crossed his path years back—Diana, but aside from blood, you are the first woman to ever step in here. I've been his nanny since he was six years old, and I have never seen this."
I sat there, frozen. "And Steve is—"
My heart hammered against my ribs. "And Steve... who is he, really?"
Nana stood up and patted my hand, her expression turning unreadable. "That," she said softly, "is something you should ask him yourself."
As Nana left, I just sat there, looking around the room and making that same "hmmm" sound. I couldn't find any actual words.
I rubbed my arms, feeling the skin just to make sure I wasn't a ghost. My skin felt warm. The air felt real. But why me? Out of everyone in the world, why was I sitting in the middle of a fortress belonging to a man I barely knew?
I stood up and walked around, touching the edge of the bed and the soft fabric of the curtains.
I walked over to the massive bed again and let myself fall backward. The mattress was so soft it felt like it was swallowing me whole. I stared up at the high ceiling, my heart still doing that frantic little dance against my ribs.
"Wake up, Freya, if this is just a freak dream," I whispered to the empty room.