As they left the restaurant, Evelyn’s driver pulled up in a sleek, black limousine. Marcus hesitated for a moment, his instincts telling him to run, but there was a warmth in Evelyn’s voice that made him feel safe. With a cautious nod, he climbed into the vehicle beside Evelyn, unsure of what awaited him.
The drive was quiet, with the hum of the engine the only sound. Evelyn glanced at Marcus, who sat awkwardly on the plush leather seats, his eyes wide with the disbelief of his current situation. She could see the years of hardship etched into his young face and felt a pang of regret for all the times she had ignored people like him in her own city.
They arrived at a grand townhouse, a relic of Evelyn’s more prosperous days. She had sold many of her properties after the accident, but this place remained her sanctuary. “Welcome to my home,” she said as they entered the warm, inviting space. Marcus looked around, his eyes taking in the opulent decor, the high ceilings, and the grand staircase.
