Astoria Greengrass House Novels & Stories

I hugged her again in happiness. Eros’ Pov West Mansion has always been magnificent. It was everybody’s dream house. It wasn’t of a fair size, but it was enormously built with grey lyons bricks. They smelled of clean and age. The weeds and scrubs that usually covered the fence were now cleared and the grey lawn was even more visible. Small trees littered the compound and it gave the compound a darker shade. I inhaled the fresh air, away from the bustling of New York city. Sebastian drove into my garage. I had built mine to avoid competition of spaces. Yes, we even fought over trivial matters such as where to have your car packed. Would it be next to mom or dad?

I opened the door for her and gave her my hand before she got out of the car. “But this isn’t where you live,” she said, looking up at the 35-story structure. “I bought this place for us yesterday.” I placed my hand on her waist, pulling her toward me. “Of course, a new life should start in a new house. Don’t you agree with me, Mrs. Astor?“

I clicked my tongue. I’ve caught her stealing before so it could be related to that but I need to know the details. I didn’t want to pry in before but for some reason I’m not quite able to calm my brain down whenever I think about it. It’s just in case so it shouldn’t cause any trouble. “Okay then.” Astor said, “I don’t think it’ll take much time since she seems like a pretty ordinary person.” He put his phone back in his pocket, “I’ll get this done first.” He gave me a slight bow and left.

LUNA POV I am in Hector's car now. I got the chance to sleep for more than two hours since we arrived in that hotel this morning. Hector woke me up to join him for lunch. We ate some kinds of seafood and the taste was amazing. Looking from the outside, I am enjoying the beauty of this place. Hector told me that we were in Astoria. The seaside town of Astoria borders both the Pacific Ocean and the Columbia River in far northwest Oregon. I can see the antique streets with several visitor magnets, like restaurants and boutiques. We also passed by the Captain George Flavel House Museum and the Oregon Film Museum. I've never been to this place before. Hector stopped the car. As I went out of the

~ ISLA ~ The glass greenhouse on the rooftop of the six-story mansion in Tribeca Heights was one of my escapes these days. Alistair had built it specifically for me before the accident, wanting a place where I could grow my rare medicinal herbs and plants. Stepping inside always felt like leaving the chaos of New York behind. The air was always warm, smelling of rich soil and fresh jasmine.

+++ I parked my SUV in the spot out front at Aster House and sat behind the wheel for two seconds longer, hands still on the steering wheel, AC still running, sunglasses still perched on top of my head like I wasn’t ready to be a person again. Los Angeles at this hour was so bright it felt almost cruel. Sunlight bounced off glass buildings, car hoods, pale sidewalks. Everyone looked busy, beautiful, and a little irritating. Maya had just sent a photo from a boutique on Melrose with the caption: Athena says I need a new blazer. Athena is wrong. I need two. Athena, naturally, had replied with a photo of a brown leather bag expensive enough to fund an entire custom kitchen in Silver Lake. I kil

Aaron asked. "Are you?" she returned the question, receiving a nod in response. Aaron took Elena's hand, and they proceeded to the elevator, using it to reach the first floor of the house. The Granger mansion, as expected, was luxurious and imposing. To Elena, it was even clearer than she supposed. There were glass panels on all sides, which left the environment completely exposed.

She exchanged a wary glance with Rian, uncertainty flickering in her eyes as Christian and Antonia drew nearer. In the expansive confines of the Gracias family mansion, Mr. and Mrs. Gracias found themselves nestled within the opulent embrace of luxury and grandeur. Their home, a sprawling estate nestled amidst verdant gardens and manicured lawns, exuded an air of timeless elegance and sophistication. The mansion itself was a masterpiece of architectural splendor, boasting towering columns, intricately carved facades, and sweeping verandas that overlooked the sprawling grounds below. Inside, the interiors were a symphony of rich woods, sumptuous fabrics, and exquisite furnishings, each elemen

I said to him. “Don’t do anything without me,” he said. “Do I ever?” I asked him. “Well the other night you did slam the door in my face,” he said as he walked back into the hallway. I ignored him and instead focused on the documents popping up on the screen as the search continued running through all the databases for information on Chester Greenfield. He owned a huge ass house in Port Washington, just outside of New York City. His family wasn’t wealthy and I doubted if he could afford that house on a council member salary.

But I didn’t wait. I marched through the hospital corridor, knowing exactly where I was going next. I didn’t even need to double-check the address. Everyone in this city knew where the Astors lived. Their estate was the kind of people who gave directions with. That big white mansion with the wrought-iron gates, lined with trimmed trees and guards who looked like models. It felt stupid, walking toward it in my scuffed sneakers and thrifted jeans, my hair thrown in a messy bun and my mind racing. But I didn’t stop.