Chapter 389

Alaric

The Ashford Estate appeared on my GPS twenty minutes later, a converted Victorian mansion that screamed boutique charm.

I parked the car and entered a lobby with exposed brick walls, inviting antique furniture, and a crackling fireplace, despite the mild weather.

"Welcome to The Ashford," the clerk greeted me with genuine warmth. "Checking in?"

"Alaric Sterling. I should have a reservation.