Oliver parked the Virella R9 near the front steps, his eyes still flicking across every detail of the mansion like he couldn't quite believe it was real. Neither could I, if I was being honest.
We stepped out, and a breeze swept through the manicured front courtyard. The doors hadn't even opened yet, but the place radiated a quiet, expensive sort of welcome. No gaudy statues, no overwhelming grandeur—just elegance refined to an art form.
Before either of us could say anything, the front doors opened with a soft mechanical hiss.
Two attendants stepped out in sleek black uniforms, not quite butler-esque, but close enough. Both bowed slightly.
"Welcome home, Young Master Ravensleigh," one of them said smoothly.
Oliver visibly flinched.
'Yeah, I felt that too.'
[Their facial recognition system confirms your identity. Your arrival has been anticipated.]
I gave a polite nod, masking the awkward spike of panic that hit me. "Thanks."
"Would you like us to park the vehicle and prepare refreshments?"
Oliver glanced at me like he was staring at an alien in human skin. "…Y-Young Master Cedric?"
I arched an eyebrow. "Don't start that."
He raised his hands defensively, but grinned. "I mean, I gotta call you something, right? This place makes mister sound like an insult."
I gave him a look that said, 'Play it cool, or I'll bury you in paperwork.'
"Please," I replied to the attendants, stepping forward. "And send someone to clean the south-facing balcony."
They bowed again. "At once, sir."
Oliver followed behind me, still stunned as we passed through the main doors into the villa.
The air was cool inside. Not from AC—no, the place had been designed to breathe, like every marble wall and wooden arch had learned how to regulate temperature just by existing for a hundred years.
"You're serious," Oliver whispered, just loud enough for me to hear. "You really live here… Young Master Cedric."
"I swear to god, I will revoke your guest access."
He let out a low whistle, clearly unfazed. "But seriously, man. What are you?"
I smiled without answering. Because honestly? I was still trying to figure that out too.
[Welcome to Villa Élysée, Cedric. Shall I begin syncing the interior systems to your preferences?]
'Yeah. Let's make this place feel real.'
[Done. A customized access node has been prepared.]
By the time we made it past the entryway, Oliver had completely forgotten how to walk like a normal person. He kept spinning in slow circles, neck craned up, eyes soaking in the chandeliers, the vaulted ceilings, the polished wood, and the curated art lining the walls.
"Do you realize how many zeroes this place costs?" he muttered.
"Let's not," I replied.
We crossed through the central hallway and into the atrium. Sunlight poured in from the high arched glass above, casting soft patterns across the floor.
The living space beyond looked like it belonged in a magazine—spacious, tastefully minimalist, with furniture that probably had names like Rochefort Ivory and Bleu de Minuit.
Oliver flopped onto one of the couches like a man spiritually defeated. "Young Master Cedric," he groaned. "Tell me you're secretly royalty. Please. Just let me have that."
I sat down across from him and crossed one leg over the other, resting my elbow on the armrest. "Unfortunately for you, I'm just a very lucky orphan with a legally binding claim to this villa."
"That's worse," he mumbled into a pillow. "Mystery rich kid with a sealed file and no known relatives? That's serial killer material, dude."
[Refreshments have been prepared. Shall I bring them to the lounge, Cedric?]
'Yes. Something light.'
[Done. You'll have your tea and honey citrus cakes in two minutes.]
Oliver peeked up at me. "Cakes?"
"Cakes."
He stared. "This house feeds you better than most hospitals."
I gave a faint smile and looked toward the glass wall that faced the ocean. From here, I could see the water crashing far below the cliffside, endlessly moving.
"It's quiet," I said. "Too quiet, maybe."
Oliver adjusted to sit up straighter. "You don't like it?"
"I didn't say that." I leaned back. "But sometimes it feels like this place is waiting for someone else."
"Someone else?"
I shrugged. "Someone who belongs here."
The door behind us slid open with a soft hiss, and an attendant stepped in carrying a tray. She moved like a ghost, silent, efficient, elegant. The tea was placed before us, along with delicate cakes that looked almost too pretty to eat.
Oliver stared at the tray like he was looking at treasure. "Young Master Cedric," he said reverently. "Adopt me."
I didn't laugh, but the corner of my mouth twitched. "You'd have to work for it."
"Do I get an allowance?"
"No."
He sighed and took a bite anyway. "Still worth it."
I leaned my head back against the couch, listening to the faint hum of the estate's atmosphere—climate-controlled, calm, curated like everything else here. It should've felt like luxury.
But all I could think was—
'Why does this place feel like a waiting room?'
Oliver took a sip of his tea, then casually glanced at me. "So, you know Thomas, right?"
I raised an eyebrow, setting down my cup. "Thomas? The one from Le Jardin de'Or?"
"Yeah," he replied, looking like he was still mulling over the tea's flavor. "I didn't realize he was living in the same neighborhood as you."
I blinked, trying to remember. Thomas Blake had been one of the younger men I'd dined with at the restaurant—sharp dresser, quick with a joke, but his name had slipped from my mind in the whirlwind of all that had happened.
It wasn't like I'd formed any strong connection with him. Just another face in a sea of aristocrats and high society chatter.
"Wait," I said, sitting up a little straighter. "He lives here?"
Oliver nodded. "Yeah, I don't know if you've been keeping track, but this whole area is like a playground for the rich. He's got a villa not too far from yours—same complex, different building."
I let out a slow exhale. The last thing I needed was to run into someone I barely knew from a night where I'd spent more time dodging questions than actually enjoying the food.
"Great," I muttered. "Small world."
Oliver shrugged, unconcerned. "Yeah, but it's a decent neighborhood. You'll probably see him around at some point. Thomas is a pretty easy guy to spot. Always wearing a suit, even when he's just picking up a coffee."
I leaned back again, a little lost in thought. A neighbor wasn't a huge deal, but the timing was… odd.
'Is this some sort of sign? That all these people from that night are popping up here?'
The whole thing felt like the start of some kind of mess I wasn't ready to deal with. I wanted to relax in the quiet, not constantly feel like I was under the watchful eyes of people who would probably never let me forget I was an outsider—no matter how much money or status I managed to "earn."
Oliver, as usual, was already moving on, clearly more interested in the cakes than in any drama that might come with sharing a neighborhood with someone like Thomas.
But me? I couldn't shake the feeling that I might need to keep an eye on this little revelation.
Oliver set his cup down, a thoughtful look crossing his face. He glanced at me, a little more serious than usual. "You know, Young Master Cedric," he began, his tone shifting to something more sincere, "I've been thinking... You've been around here for a while, and I feel like we haven't had a proper chance to just hang out, you know?"
I tilted my head, wondering where he was going with this. Oliver wasn't exactly the type to get sentimental.
He continued, his tone warming. "So, I've got this little birthday banquet planned in two days, and, well... I'd really like it if you could come. It's not going to be anything too fancy, just some good food, a few drinks, and a chance to kick back. You're welcome to come by, Young Master Cedric. It'd be good to see you there."
I blinked, surprised. A birthday banquet? In two days? He barely knew me, and yet, here he was, inviting me to something that sounded like it would be a significant event for him.
"Your birthday?" I asked, trying to sound casual, though inside I was calculating just how much of a commitment this might be.
Oliver nodded, a grin tugging at his lips. "Yeah, I know, it's a little last minute. But it'd be great to have you there. We're going to have some of the usual crowd, a few friends, you know, nothing too stuffy. Just a chance to relax, get away from all the crazy things going on in this city."
It sounded nice in theory, but the truth was, I wasn't sure if I was ready to jump into that kind of social scene. I had enough to deal with just figuring out how to exist in this world of wealth and aristocracy, without trying to be "friends" with someone whose circle was likely filled with people just as… complicated.
But, as I glanced at Oliver's hopeful expression, I couldn't bring myself to say no.
"Alright," I said, after a brief pause. "I'll come. Just let me know the time and place, and I'll be there."
Oliver's face broke into a grin, and I could tell he was genuinely happy about the answer. "Great! It's at my place, obviously, just a few minutes from here. I'll send you the details tonight. I'm really looking forward to it, Young Master Cedric."
I gave him a nod, not entirely sure what I was getting myself into, but I figured it couldn't hurt to show up. At least it might give me a better understanding of the people in Oliver's life—and maybe a chance to gather more information about the world I had suddenly found myself tangled in.
"Alright, I'll be there," I said, letting out a small sigh as I picked up my drink again. It wasn't the worst thing that could happen, after all.
I took another sip of my drink, and once again, the thought hit me.
'Wait... I still don't have a driver's license.'
The realization hit me again, and I couldn't help but groan inwardly. How was I supposed to attend a high-profile event like Oliver's birthday party when I couldn't even get myself there?
Oliver, noticing my pause, looked over at me with a knowing smirk. "What's on your mind, Young Master Cedric?"
I sighed, glancing at him. "I just realized... I can't drive. I don't have a license."
Oliver raised an eyebrow, clearly already knowing. "Yeah, I figured. No worries, though. I'll just have Thomas pick you up. He's in the same neighborhood, remember?"
I nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over me. "Right. Of course."
Oliver smiled, clearly pleased with himself. "Don't worry about it. I'll let him know. You just focus on being at the party."
"Thanks," I replied, genuinely grateful. "I appreciate it, Oliver."
"No problem," he said, giving me a wink. "It's my job to make sure you get there in style."
As Oliver finished his drink, he gave me a nod and stood up, slipping on his jacket.
"Alright, Young Master Cedric, I'll head over to Thomas' place and get things sorted. Don't worry, I'll make sure everything's taken care of for the party."
I stood as well, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and unease. "Thanks, Oliver. I'll see you in two days."
Oliver grinned, giving a casual wave as he made his way toward the door. "You got it. Take care, Young Master Cedric. And try to keep the low profile, alright?"
I nodded, not fully trusting myself to say much more. The idea of attending the party, of mingling in that high society world, still felt... off. But it was an invitation I couldn't afford to decline. Not with all the layers of this life I was pretending to fit into.
As the door closed behind him, I was left alone in the quiet of the villa. The stillness hung around me, as if waiting for something to break the silence.
'Two days,' I thought, rubbing my temples. 'Two days to figure out what I'm really doing here.'
I glanced around the empty room, the luxury of it feeling both comforting and suffocating. It was hard to wrap my mind around this version of my life, especially knowing that none of it was mine. It wasn't really me. Just another part of the system's grand design.
[Relax. You're doing well.]
I shook my head, the thought echoing in my mind. I wasn't so sure.
But for now, I had no choice but to play the part.