Afton Family Portrait Novels & Stories

They all grouped themselves. Autumn stepped back from the family portrait and looked at the one she made everyone take. All her friends and their family were in it: Gaia, her husband and two sons, Constance, her children but not her husband—he refused to join, Brianna, Jacky and their three children, Meredith and her family, Chelsea and hers, she was carrying her last and fourth child which gender was unknown, Jaxon and Delaney, his children including his other child. Turns out he had a daughter among those women. Her mother died so Delaney was taking good care of her. There was also Jaybie even though he remained single with only a son.

There was a time when I, too, had wild dreams and unrealistic expectations. Some of the furniture reminded me of my grandmother’s and the rest had a Pier 1 look. I lifted a framed 5x7 photograph off a buffet behind the front door and studied it. It was a portrait of a teenaged Ashleigh with a woman, a man, and a boy—probably her family.

•~•Aziel’s POV The Grant mansion felt quieter than usual. Still. Hollow. I stood in the hallway beside Irene, both of us staring at the large family portrait hanging on the wall. My father, my mother, and two boys dressed in matching blazers. My brother and I. The perfect family on canvas. Nothing more than lies pressed into paint. "How long are you going to keep staring at this?" Irene asked, her voice soft but impatient. "You already got what you came for. Let’s go."

I could imagine a young Ashton working alongside his nonno making wine. As we walked through the house, I noticed a lot of pictures of his family on the walls. Isabella had the entire house full of family pictures from when Ashton was young up until recently. There was a few years that his mother wasn't present on some family photos but I knew the reason why and it made me feel sad all over again. “You must have heard what happened when Ashton was five years old.” Nonna asked as she looked at a picture where Ashton and Bella were around six years old standing with their father. They were all were smiling but you could tell it was forced.

Family, friends, distant cousins dragged out of hiding—everyone who could make it was here. Ashton’s family tree was less tree, more tangle. Edouard Laurent had a few brothers and sisters, and each one had their own army of children and grandchildren. Ashton’s father, Reginald, was Edouard’s youngest son. Reginald had three sons, Ashton being the eldest. Throw in a bunch of distant relatives, and you have a party that could rival any school reunion. Ashton’s arm slipped around my waist, and we walked towards the house in sync.

The mansion in the photo was not glittering with gold and jade, but rather gave the impression of a manor, a very leisurely and comfortable living environment. This photo was consistent with the news previously released by the media, coupled with the low-key personality of the Ashton family, they were able to confirm that this was the mansion of the Ashton family in Althera. As for the other photo, it depicted a man dressed in a blue suit. Just sitting there, he exuded an aura of authority without showing anger. As for his appearance, he was extremely handsome, probably having fully inherited the excellent genes of the Ashton family. He looked to be around twenty-eight years old, it must be

I look to the side to read the theme of the room. “The witch who lived throughout the centuries and the descendants” I read it in a whisper with a frown before continuing my way inside. Each of them was a picture of a family. It was a noble family with obviously good genes. I squinted my eyes to look closer at the painting. The blurry name of the painter of the masterpiece was undetermined because the name and the date almost got erased by its age. I look up at the painting of the family in front of me. There are six members. The mother, the father, and their four kids. The one beside the father seemed to be the oldest, the one beside the mother, seemed to be the second oldest, and lastly,

It was me, my mom, my dad, and his dad, his mom, and him. "What are these?" I mumbled scrutinizing every picture. The biggest picture at the center was a picture of two children. A boy and a girl, the boy looked like Arrow and the girl looked like me when I was young. The portrait was named 'Black and Red' The second portrait contains them: Arrow and his parents, Mr. Black and Mrs. Heliana. Entitled to 'Smith' The third portrait was me and my family. 'Woodwords' There was a picture of my family and him. 'American Mafia'

I froze at the door, my pulse hammering. Rita. My children. Ashton. And none of them even realized how out of place this was. Ashton glanced up then, and his eyes caught mine. For a second, his expression was unreadable, caught between different emotions, like amusement, caution, and something softer. He looked back down at Kate’s drawing. It was crude, childlike, full of mismatched colors. But clear enough: five little figures, hand-in-hand. A woman with long hair. A tall man with broad shoulders.

"I'll be right back. I need to go check on your mum to be sure she's fine." I headed out and stopped at the stairs with my eyes fixated on the huge wooden and glass-framed portrait of Axton's late dad hanging on the wall. He stood in a dignified pose with his black hair adorned with grey streaks, a twinkle in his eye, and a vibrant and robust energy. Axton looked so much like his dad except that his dad's eyes had a subtle grey hue that looked back at me. My hands reached out to touch the painted surface. "You need to save your family. You need to come through right now. Else, I'm afraid you will not have any legacy left."