Chapter 18: Ashborn Treasury.
’A handsome man stood in front of a grand-looking door.’
’His eyes were tired. Tired of waiting. Tired of the door refusing to open as if it had some ancient blood feud with him.’
’And of course, the final boss guarding that door?’
’An old man with grey eyes and a scalp that had long declared war on hair, pecking at a digital screen like he was entering a nuclear launch code.’
If I were being poetic, this was exactly how I would have written myself.
But the truth?
That geezer had been typing the same long-ass password for ten minutes straight.
I was so fucking bored. That I started describing my own life in a third POV just to pass the time.
And honestly? It was kind of fun.
Not that I had a choice. If literally anyone else besides that ancient geezer was here, I might’ve had someone to talk to.
But nope. No one.
We were inside the Ashborn Family Treasury.