Astrid

 “Get her things from her home,” Adrian said to the chauffeur once we'd arrived at his house. It was obvious Adrian was doing quite well, a huge contrast to the man I’d known five years ago.

 His house was massive, the kind that felt too big for one person. Knowing Adrian, though, he probably lived alone.

 “Should I be surprised you know where I live?” I asked, crossing my arms. My tone was dry, but I was genuinely curious. His brown eyes narrowed on me.

 “No, you ...