I never expected an invitation to Julian Ashbourne's glittering world a realm of power, opulence, and whispered scandals. Sure, I could handle curating his late mother's mysterious art collection, but I didn't sign up for cryptic keys, stolen artifacts, and conversations that felt more like chess matches than small talk. And Julian? He's a human enigma one part suave tycoon, one part brooding mystery, with a past as tangled as the ivy creeping up his estate's walls. But every glance, every conversation, pulls me deeper into his orbit. Then there's the collection itself art that feels alive, humming with secrets I can't quite decode. The closer I get to the truth, the more I realize this isn't just about paintings or legacies; it's about the ghosts we carry and the choices that define us. And with each step, I'm not sure whether I'm unlocking the past. . . or something far more dangerous.
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