<h4>Chapter 345: Chapter 345 Mountain Sanctuary</h4>
Cecilia’s pov
My eyes fluttered open as someone gently pulled off my headphones.
I blinked against the sudden sunlight and looked out the window.
We werending on a mountain peak, sharp and endless, covered in deep green pine trees.
Below us, the Colorado Springsndscape looked wild and untouched.
Two people waited near the helipad. A man and a woman, both probably in their early forties, stood side by side in rugged clothes that blended into the mountain surroundings.
Tang helped Harper and me down the chopper steps. My legs were still heavy from sleep.
The woman walked over with a warm smile and offered me her arm.
The man stayed quiet. He went straight to our bags and started loading them.
"This way, please," The woman said.
She led us toward a ck SUV parked nearby, opening the rear doors with the kind of smooth efficiency that said this wasn’t her first time doing this.
Once we were settled inside and the luggage was loaded, the woman climbed into the passenger seat and the man took the wheel.
The vehicle pulled away from the helipad and turned onto a surprisingly wide road, carved right into the mountain.
Towering pines lined both sides, their branches weaving overhead like a canopy, letting sunlight filter through in shifting patterns.
The light danced across myp, warm and unreal.
I found myself staring at a patch of gold on my jeans, wondering for a second if I was still dreaming.
"Mr. Cassian asked us to make sure you’refortable," the woman’s voice cut through my fog. She’d twisted in her seat to face us, still smiling.
"Thanks," I croaked, my voice scratchy from sleep. Harper and Tang murmured their thanks too.
"Oh, it’s no trouble at all," the woman said with augh. "I’m Yulia."
She nodded toward the driver. "That’s my husband, Levi."
We exchanged polite nods as I introduced myself.
"Cece. Just Cece."
I kept my full name to myself on purpose.
This was Colorado Springs, after all. It might’ve been Cassian’s turf, but it was still way too close to Maggie Locke forfort.
Yulia didn’t push. She clocked our caution immediately and let it go without blinking.
Author’s pov
At the time, no one in Cecilia’s group knew that the entire mountain belonged to the Locke family.
It wasn’t justnd; it was a private empire carved into the wilderness.
The pine-covered slopes, the winding roads, the hiddenmunity behind electronic gates, and the sleek modern mansion at the summit.
All of it was under Locke control.
The Locke matriarch had lived there in self-imposed istion for years, far removed from the chaos of city life.
Her home, a striking blend of ss and stone, offered panoramic views and a silence that could either soothe or unnerve, depending on who you were.
Themunity tucked away below looked ordinary at first nce, but nearly every resident worked for the family in some form or another.
Gardeners, drivers, wildlife rangers, household staff.
She didn’t need surveince cameras when almost every pair of eyes already worked for her.
Even Maggie Locke had never dared to step foot on this mountain.
Whatever history she had with the Locke matriarch remained a mystery that only the two of them understood.
Yulia didn’t know the full story. She just knew the Locke family was powerful, private, and best left alone.
Most of the time, when Cassian came here, he was bruised and bleeding.
But this time, he’d sent two women to stay.
That was different.
Cece and Harper stood out in different ways. One was calm and guarded. The other was quiet, but sharp-eyed.
From the passenger seat, Yulia stole asional nces at them in the rearview mirror, her curiosity barely hidden despite her best efforts.
A small smile tugged at her lips, like she was silently trying to work out a riddle.
The girls noticed, but there was no malice in Yulia ‘s gaze, so they let it go.
The SUV kept moving, descending along a winding road carved into the mountain’s side.
Pine trees towered on either side like sentinels, their thick branches filtering the light into flickering shadows.
The air was crisp and dry, heavy with the scent of resin and moss.
A pair of deer darted across the road up ahead, vanishing between the trees before the tires reached them.
A hawk circled above, its cry sharp against the quiet.
Fifteen minutes in, the road narrowed into a barely-visible trail, just wide enough for one vehicle.
The tires crunched over gravel and packed dirt, passing the asional deer track along the edge.
Then, almost without warning, the forest began to thin out and the view suddenly opened up.
A private settlement came into sight, tucked into a valley shaped by time and wind.
From above, the houses looked scattered and random. But once you got closer, it was clear that every detail had been carefully nned.
The architecture was cohesive: stone and dark wood exteriors, soft-edged rooftops, andrge windows that reflected the sky.
Yards were filled with hignd roses,vender, and wildflowers, growing in curated disarray.
Some homes had wraparound porches with antique rocking chairs.
A few had outdoor hot tubs built into their decks, facing the mountains.
One house even had a ss greenhouse tucked behind tall hedges, barely visible through the trees.
Thewns were immacte, yet effortless, as if nature itself had decided to y along.
It didn’t look like a neighborhood. It looked like a retreat.
Private, remote, and deliberately hidden from the outside world.