Astoria Greengrass House Novels & Stories

Waiting. They were protecting something. Or watching for something. It made me uneasy. We drove through the streets and people stopped to watch us pass. Some waved. Others just stared. Finally we turned down a wide road lined with trees and at the end of it stood a mansion. The Alpha House. It was huge. Three stories tall with columns and balconies and windows that glittered in the sunlight. The grounds around it were manicured and perfect, with fountains and statues and paths winding through gardens.

"It isn't. But it's fair to me, and I've spent three years putting myself last on that list. I'm not doing it with this too." Mara didn't argue. She just made two cups of tea, decaffeinated mine without asking, and sat with me until the sun came all the way up. I moved out of Mara's apartment two weeks later. Astoria, a one-bedroom above a bakery that made the whole stairwell smell like proofing dough every morning at five. It was smaller than my old closet on East 73rd Street. It was mine in a way that ten thousand square feet of glass and marble had never managed to be.

She stepped out of the car and walked across the street. The lobby of the Grand Astoria was vast, its ceiling soaring three stories overhead. A crystal chandelier hung in the center, its thousands of facets catching the light and scattering it across the marble floor. Guests milled about in clusters, their voices a low hum beneath the string quartet playing in the corner.

“No, but with an Italian accent.” Gracie laughed, and for a few seconds, the air felt light again. Rhysand walked on Gracie’s other side, not too close, not too far, his hair slightly disheveled from the ocean win. The carriage house sat on the north side of the estate, beyond a gently sloping stone path and a small courtyard planted with lavender. The building was low and long, with the same white stucco walls as the main house, but its large wooden doors had probably once opened for actual carriages.

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?“

Anyway, the person she would meet was not just anyone. Aria came down, agitated. She did not have Mrs. Greco’s phone number, so she hoped her former teacher was at home at the time. The house was simple, but beautiful. Aria smiled as she remembered the days when she and Cassandra ran through those lavender gardens, and her mother scolded them for stepping on the flowers. The house had white windows and was made of cream-colored bricks. Flowers and plants loved her entrance and Aria felt their textures as she raised her hand to ring the doorbell.

Her demeanor was not anywhere close to the sick-minded killer Mom believed her to be. We were in Jane Astor’s territory. She could break our necks using her supernatural forces and make it look like an accident. Then why was she being so sweet to us? What was I missing? To find an answer, we followed our aunt to another room. The interior of the mansion was more grand and impressive than the exterior. Wealth and elegance were evident in everything, including furniture, paintings, rugs, and ornaments. The Astors were living an extremely comfortable life. They must be bored out of their minds to target others with black magic.

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