“Julian, wait.” Arabella holds me back before we step up to the front door and open it to the main house.
She seems hesitant, but then again, she has good cause. Just a few minutes earlier, Eric pulled in the driveway first and then I followed with the Ferrari. When we parked the cars, it seemed deserted, and it feels wrong.
Is she tapping into my reservations, or does she have her own? Maybe the pups are influencing her somehow? By the looks of her, I would say the latter. Her face is pale, and she is clutching her stomach with her other hand protectively. She looks up at me with a furrowed brow and seems a bit scared too.
“It will be alright.” I tell her as I try to calm her down before I open the door and hear someone on the other side.