Watching You Burn In Regret novel Chapter 38

Seren was almost certain it was the former.

After all, Lennon's achievements were nothing short of extraordinary—far beyond what most people could ever hope for. It meant that in every aspect, he outshone the average person, almost as if they lived in parallel worlds. People who rose to the top like him were always sharp and discerning; Seren had no doubt about that.

When they arrived at their destination, Lennon brought out a jar of ointment and gently applied it to her bruise. The cool touch soothed the pain, easing it away bit by bit.

Lennon had brought her to the city's exclusive riverside villa district. Even though Seren had been away from Seaside City for three years, she recognized the neighborhood immediately.

"Rippling Gardens," she murmured.

Built a decade ago, Rippling Gardens sat right in the heart of Seaside City, where real estate was as precious as gold. The Ashford River glittered nearby, and the name "Rippling Gardens" captured the villa's view of the water's shimmering surface.

There were only a handful of villas in the entire development. Each was a freestanding home, sprawling over three thousand square feet, with plenty of space and privacy between neighbors—true sanctuaries for the city's elite.

Only the wealthiest and most powerful could live here. Back then, even the Bradley family had tried to buy a villa but couldn't get their foot in the door.

Inside, the décor was minimalist—wooden sofas, a simple coffee table, pale wooden floors, enormous floor-to-ceiling windows dressed with sheer white curtains. By the windows was a daybed, and along the wall stood a row of tall bookshelves. Soft amber light bathed the room, casting everything in a gentle, peaceful glow.

To Seren, this was exactly what a home should look like. It was perfectly curated: nothing excessive, nothing out of place, everything matching her aesthetic down to the smallest detail.

Yet, she couldn't help but wonder if this really suited Lennon's tastes. Few young people liked this kind of old-world charm. Seren's own love for these vintage touches came from her years spent studying Western classical painting; she'd grown attached to antiques and timeless beauty.

Her gaze lingered on the daybed and bookshelves in the corner, a strange sense of familiarity creeping over her. Then it hit her—this scene was straight out of a sketch she'd idly doodled over ten years ago. That drawing was probably still hanging on the wall at Rutledge Manor.

Her mind stumbled over the coincidence, and before she could stop herself, she turned to Lennon. "Did you design this place?"

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