Novel & Cerita Astoria Greengrass House

Finally, Alpha Gray turned off the smooth asphalt road and drove down a beaten track leading to a small cottage with timber silvered by the sun. The tiny home was perfectly tucked into the lush golden and green surroundings, with its rough and weathered logs from countless seasonal changes. The air was dry and sharp, with a prickly smell of herbs. There was an orchard partly hidden on one side of the cottage with a small glass greenhouse. Alpha Gray walked up on the front porch and knocked on the door. There was no answer, so he called out, "Grandma are you there?" "I am in the greenhouse, dear," answered a woman with a gravely and trembling voice.

She didn't want to assume yet. “Chloe I'm not in the mood for this right now. Just drive or get in the back seat and let me drive." Harry said, his gaze boring into hers. Gemila bit her lips slightly, shaking her head. She eventually removed her foot from the break and began driving again. She decided not to ask further questions till they stopped infront of an old building, not too old though but it looked like it needed a repaint as some part of the walls had lost their color. It's a green two story building with fine aluminum rooftop, also painted green. It seems this is the place they call the green house. She's heard of it before but never visited it as people say the streets are owned

I mumbled, and I heard Zachary chuckled, and I can tell my reactions amused him. "Most houses of this part of the subdivision are not that big since those mansions only have seven bedrooms; wait until we reach the mansion of the Pritzgold family. And they also have a manor outside the city of Astikoz, and you will be more shocked when you see the ancestral home of his father." Zachary said, and I wonder what kind of house Ashton lives in if these houses are small compared to the house of Ashton.

With his resources, there was no reason not to find a place of his own, and this new chapter felt like the right move. Sometime later, Liam's sleek car came to a stop, as he arrived at the location where the real estate agent had asked him to meet. It was in Astoria Heights, one of the most luxurious parts of the city, known for its opulence and exclusivity. Towering glass buildings surrounded him, their sleek designs a testament to modern architecture and wealth.

"Tell me — what is that one food you've craved for long? I'll get it for you." I don't say anything. My mind is blank. "Nothing? Well, don't worry. I'll pick for you." She turns a corner. And then she pulls into a wide, sweeping driveway lined with tall hedges. A fountain spins in the middle. Valets in vests stand under a white awning. The building is big — glass and stone, glowing like a department store at Christmas. A small gold sign on a black pole: The Aster. Cortney parks. Kills the engine.

I said with an eye roll. He leaned forward as the officiant declared ‘sold’. “When my wife wants it, she's getting it” I roll my eyes and shake my head. “Just consider it charity funds” he said with a smile. The last item for the night was a mansion at Staten Island going for 150 million dollars. A 12 acres mansion with vast green manicured lawn, European style mansion powered by modern tech. It is built on the hill’s slope, and it offers panoramic views of the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge, Manhattan’s skyline, and the Atlantic horizon.

“I need another room.” “I’m sorry, miss, but the housekeepers were just doing what they were told,” the woman responded. “No, you don’t understand. Mr. Astor left late last night to go back to New York. If someone was in my room and excused the housekeepers, it wasn’t Mr. Astor. Whoever it was, wasn’t in there with my permission. Do you have another bungalow? I can’t stay in that room,” I said, feeling my chest rising and falling faster than I could control.

"Fanny says I should get him a pair." "Fanny is trying to sabotage you," he says. "Why would you give a man who doesn't wear cufflinks a pair of cufflinks?" "So I shouldn't." "I'm saying think it through." The lobby opens around us and we push through the glass doors into the morning. An overcast sky is hanging over the street. Derek drives us to a restaurant. The Astoria is across the street from it. The Astoria's parking lot is filling up. Derek surveys it and says, "We'll eat first and leave the car here."

The script had been entirely erased. "Let's go," she whispered. The Safehouse. Astoria, Queens. Wednesday. 3:45 PM. The neighborhood did not look like a place where international secrets went to hide. It was a quiet, working-class block of red-brick two-family homes, lined with small front gardens where the early spring hydrangeas were just beginning to bud beneath the steady downpour. The scent of asphalt, wet earth, and industrial exhaust from the nearby Triborough Bridge hung heavy in the air.

Ashton crawled before my feet, "Please, sir, please spare me this time, I will give him punishment on my own, Please boss." I pressed his feet over his fingers, asked again "Place.."- Ashton closed his eyes in pure panic, as he didn't have any lie to feed us, "Secret Garden Estates, one of my guest houses." My heartbeat synchronized with the relentless tick of the clock, my foot pressed firmly on the accelerator, the need to reach to my Lia was beyond anything, I stopped my car and we prepared our guns, and got out from car.