22. I feel like Ive walked these floors a thousand times before.
I stared out of the window of Daxton's car as we drove to his house in silence. The air was still charged from the intensity of everything that had happened earlier, an electrical pull alight between us. The kiss, his possessive anger, his stance to protect me.
I licked my lips and turned to him, speaking for the first time since we had sat in the car. "What about my things?"
His gaze softened slightly as he looked my way. "I'll take you to your apartment first thing in the morning so you can pack."
I nodded, biting my lip. "Are you sure about this moving in together thing?" I inquired reluctantly.
"Hundred percent," he affirmed. "I'm not a serial killer or any sort of criminal for that matter, so you're safe with me."
My lips turned upwards despite myself. "That is debatable... after what happened earlier. I'm not sure safe is the word I'd use for how you handled that man."
The ice in his gaze cracked, lips lifting up into a small smile as his face eased up. He reached out, gently taking my hand in his. "Are you afraid of me, Ayra?"
I shook my head. "No. But I have to admit, you looked terrifying back there."
He chuckled softly. "It got the job done, didn't it?"
I giggled, easing up as well. "You could've gotten the President to listen to you with that attitude."
He laughed, squeezing my hand.
"I thought you were going to break his hand." I said softly.
"I was," he replied darkly. "You stopped me. Otherwise, trust me, he would not have walked out of there with an intact hand."
I bit my lip, warmth flooding my chest despite the threat in his tone.
Soon, we arrived at Daxton's house. The gates to his estate swung open, and the car slid in smoothly into a massive driveway.
I leaned closer to the window, my breath fogging the glass. Ahead, a massive mansion loomed, its dark windows reflecting the moon like cold eyes. But as my gaze swept over the expansive, rolling lawn, a strange, dizzying sensation washed over me.
Laughter echoed in my ears. Children's laughter.
It made me tremble slightly.
"Are you alright?" Daxton asked, his voice pulling me back to the present.
The chauffeur had parked the car right in front of the grand entrance, and Daxton was at my side, holding my door open for me.
"Uh... yeah." I replied, stepping out with his help.
My breath caught as I gazed at the wide stretch of the beautiful, green lawn adorned with red and pink roses all over.
I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd been there before. But that was impossible.
"Do you not like my house?" Daxton asked playfully, noticing the way I stood stiffly, just staring ahead.
I blinked, shaking my head. "No, no... it's beautiful. I just... feel like I've been here before."
He only smiled. "Well, that means you can start feeling at home here."
A small smile crept up my lips.
My chest felt tight, a phantom weight pressing against my lungs. I looked at the stone fountain in the center of the driveway, and for a split second, I saw a blurred image of two small children splashing in the water
"Ready to go inside?" He inquired, offering me his hand.
I nodded, putting my hand in his, relieved at the sense of grounding it provided me.
The interior was just as imposing—vaulted ceilings, marble floors that echoed with every step, and a grand staircase that spiraled upward like a spine. It was a house built for a dynasty, yet it felt strangely hollow, as if it were mourning something.
Daxton turned to me in the foyer, the soft amber light of the chandelier casting long shadows across his face.
"I know this is a lot to take in. I don't want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable," He cleared his throat, his thumb tracing the back of my hand.
"We should probably take things slow. I have a guest suite on the second floor.
You can have your own space until you feel more at home. "
"I appreciate that." I replied softly.
He nodded, giving me a gentle smile. "You go ahead. I need to speak with my staff, and then I'll join you."
"Of course," I replied. "Just tell me where to go."
He gestured toward the stairs. "Go up the main staircase, take a left at the landing, and it's the third door on the—"
"Right," I finished for him, my feet already moving toward the stairs. "Just past the arched window overlooking the rose garden, right? Next to the room with the heavy oak bookshelves?"
My feet stilled as realisation hit.
The silence that followed was so heavy it felt like it had physical weight.
I froze, my own words echoing in my ears like a broken record. How the hell did I know that? How in the world did I say that?
Slowly, I turned back to look at him.
Daxton was standing at the base of the stairs, his face deathly pale. We both stared at each other, equally stunned.
My mouth gaped open. "D-Daxton, I—"
His face eased up, body relaxing as if I hadn't just said something so frighteningly strange.
"Do you happen to communicate with spirits by any chance?" He joked.
I couldn't fathom how he could behave so normally after what I had just said. I had scared myself, but if I'd been in his place, I would have peed my pants and driven myself out of the house.
My hands trembled, breathing becoming uneven. "Daxton, I.... I don't know how... I... I really don't."
He neared me, gently putting his hands on my upper arms. His eyes held nothing but concern, when they should have showed fear and doubt.
"Are you okay, Ayra?" He asked gently.
I looked up at him with glassy eyes. "I... I just... Daxton, I feel like I've walked these floors a thousand times before."