Asher Walton House Novels & Stories

You have a way of making men go crazy over you, Walters, Zach thought angrily. Going up the steps of the townhouse that Worthington had instructed him and knocked on the door two times, stopped and counted to five and knocked three times. He stepped back when the door opened and he looked at the person who opened the door. A tall, dark, well-built man with a buzz cut opened the door and let him in and led him towards a spacious room at the end of the hallway.

Nicole exclaimed, "who is the lucky guy? Do we know him?" "His name is Asher. Asher Walton," I said without a moment of thinking. "Hold on, Asher Walton? Like the Waltons Group, Asher Walton?!" I nodded, "that's him." "Oh my goodness!" Gwen exclaimed, "I heard one of the brothers got married but I had no idea it was to you. Your husband is the fucking president of the Waltons Group!" "Yeah," I said with a haphazard smile, seeing the amount of attention their yelling was attracting. "Can you both not yell, everyone is looking at us weird."

She was only inside of Clarke’s car as the huge gate, something that reminds her of Buckingham Palace was slowly opened and Clarke even greeted the guard near his post. She smiled. She was glad that Clarke was humble and unlike Matthew, he treated everyone, be it a maid or a cleaner or even a security guard equally. As he drove inside, her eyes were wide open as she gaze at the front yard of the Walton Mansion. It looks like a park. Grand, majestic park like the one in Downton Abbey.

but I made it anyway. Because this time, if we didn't face him, Asher Walton, he'd never stop coming for us. Nicholas parked a hundred meters from the old Keepers estate. Same place where secrets were born, where betrayal lived and thrived like an inherited disease. He turned to me. "This time, you stay behind me. No matter what." I met his gaze. No. This time, we stand side by side." The estate was still dressed in false glory gleaming chandeliers, waxed floors, marble sculptures. Rotten elegance.

But when Asher walked in from the bathroom with a smile on his face, I remember that I had agreed to move in with him. I must say one thing, his house is one of the nicest I have ever seen in all of my life. When I first arrived here, I thought the pack house was gigantic, but that does not compare to the size of the house I’m currently sitting in! I was amazed at the sheer beauty of the place, Asher told me once he took the role as Alpha, he designed every last detail of the house which he will live in for the rest of his life. The number of rooms it has also blew me away, he told me it has nine bedrooms, ten bathrooms, a ballroom, dinner hall and three offices! How can one person use all o

Now, my main reason for bringing you here is: To begin with, do you know where you are? "I won’t mind if you tell me." "In my house," "Which of them?" Her brows furrowed higher. "Watson Grimes Villa—you’ve heard of it, right?" "You must be joking!" Ashely burst into a hefty laugh, clutching to the bedside and to her stomach to ease the pain in her limbs. Her face was filled with humor, even though she had not observed his tremendous change in attitude. "Nathan, I know you are nothing more than a psycho, but I didn’t think you’d be this good at lying. For a minute there, I almost believed you. There is no way that you are from the almighty late Greene’s lineage."

I know the Shaw brothers are wealthy, perhaps very wealthy, but it still doesn't diminish my shock at the scene before me. The SUV we rode in entered through a large black gate, traversing a private road flanked by tall pine trees. Half a minute later, a three-story Victorian-era house emerged. Its ivory-white exterior contrasted with black-framed windows. The house looked somewhat antiquated, reminiscent of noble houses built in the 18th century. A fountain pool stood a few meters in front of the house, with a graceful black lion statue in its center.

Alex could think only one thing, that’s maybe this is the woman they are looking for because eleven years before Joe Walton was killed. Alex wanted to know the name, but he knew this front desk will say nothing otherwise she can lose her job. “Oh, from these many years? She must be getting old.” “No, not do old, perhaps in end of the twenties.” The receptionist said while making faces, she doesn’t like when Alex asked about another woman. Alex and Henry looked at each other. “It’s this asylum so old? Actually, it looks quite new.” Alex continues digging information. “Yes, almost 25 years old, very soon asylum is going to celebrate its 25th anniversary. It was founded by Mr. Joe Walton.”

Let’s go. I already knew Ashton didn’t live in the main Laurent mansion—the one that hosted that horror show of a party. Geoffrey told me his boss preferred a more low-key residence. Well, Ashton’s version of ‘low-key’ turned out to be a three-storey white villa that looked almost humble from the outside—right up till the gates opened. There was a driveway. A parking lot. An actual swimming pool. A tennis court. An outdoor barbecue area. Even a bloody vegetable garden.

Tatiana replied, her voice barely audible. "We'll get Maya and Isabella back and make them pay for what they did, okay?" he assured her, and she nodded lightly. "Okay, Cash." __ [WALLINGTON'S MANSION... Australia] One word described the Wallington mansion: WEALTH. It exuded power from every corner. The imposing, grand building was surrounded by different flowers. The soft sounds of a burbling fountain and the scent of roses filled the air. Its architecture was breathtaking. Guards and maids moved in and out of the mansion.