Astoria Greengrass House Novels & Stories

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.

The iron gates of the Greenwich estate were wide open when he arrived. It wasn't a welcome; it was an invitation. The heavy black bars were swung back into the rhododendron bushes, their electronic latches uncoupled, leaving the long, winding driveway completely clear. Elias slammed on the brakes as he hit the circular turnaround in front of the main house. The building was a colonial-style monster, three stories of gray fieldstone that looked completely dead in the gray light of 5:15 AM. But around the side, where the old carriage house had been converted into Victor Hawthorne’s private study, a thin ribbon of orange light leaked through the wooden shutters.

She got out of the car and looked around. Well, what a great house! I've seen pictures like this in magazines. A large terrace covered with lush greenery, just huge windows, a nice balcony stretches along the perimeter of the second floor. Emerald green lawn in front of the house. Looking at him, I really want to take off my shoes and walk on the grass. While I was looking around, Grisha unloaded my things and, having said goodbye, left. And I was left alone. Yes, hospitable hosts here ...

My eyes widened when we arrived at The Astoria, a luxury apartment complex in Coral Gables, just a stone's throw away from Palm Beach. Is he serious?! The sleek glass facade gleamed under the afternoon sun, and palm trees lined the pristine entrance, making the place look more like a five-star resort than a residence. I couldn’t help but take in the grandeur as Gray stopped in the lobby. When I turned to Bradley, he was already staring at me, that guilt-ridden smile plastered on his face. He knew exactly what I was thinking.

When they were free, they got up and ran up to me. “Follow me.” I say. They all nod.I start to lead the way to the door out of the sycamore tree. “Oh!! You guys ain’t going anywhere.” said a voice behind us. It sounded familiar, like a voice I knew…… from my homeland of Astora. That was bad. We all turn around and I saw it was Sir Comolot. I was more surprised than Tony and Leo were by the look of their faces. “How did you know we were here?!”

“She likes cream cheese.” I turned my gaze out the window, biting back a smile. I was so proud of him I could burst. He was growing into such a good person. And that — that’s everything. …………… The car rolled to a smooth stop in front of Astoria Primary School — the kind of place that looked more like a private estate than an institution. Tall wrought-iron gates with gold accents opened slowly as we approached, revealing freshly trimmed lawns, glimmering water fountains, and a grand, ivory building with tall archways.

I rushed into the bedroom to collect the dirty laundry and went to the basement to hurriedly load everything when the lights went on before I could flip the switch. I immediately noticed Astor. I almost didn't recognize him because he looked haggard, and the bags under his eyes said a lot. I dropped everything I was holding and ran to hug him. "OMG You scared me! you asshole, I could've shot you. What are you doing here? How did you find me? Where's my Aunt Madonna?" I punched him on the arm lightly while I bombarded him with questions. I knew something was wrong when Astor let out a breath, instead of answering. "What is it? Where is she?" I further questioned him, pressing him to answer me

Atlas shut the door behind me, and I curiously stared up at the glass mansion towering over us. A massive infinity pool served as the centerpiece of the house, translucent blue water spilling over the edge of the cliffside. A garage filled with expensive sports cars was visible through a transparent wall. Palm trees and bollard lights decorated the entire estate, emphasizing their wealth. Ares threw his arm around my shoulders before leading me into the house. The air inside the house was sterile, but the faint smell of sandalwood lingered. Atlas came up to me and lifted me onto a barstool in the kitchen. I hopelessly looked down at the rope still tied around my wrists. I only looked up once

Just as I am going to ask, for probably the thousandth time since we have been in the car, we pull up to a massive house on a sprawling yard. “What…?” I breathe out. “It’s great, right?” I can feel Greta’s eyes on me, but I can’t look away. The massive two story house is grey with white shutters and at least fifteen windows on the front. The wraparound porch has two rocking chairs set off to the side of the front door. “Can we go!? Can we go?!” Trinity and Gabirel chant from the back as Ryker steps out of the front door. “Yeah, let’s go!” Greta moves to match the pace of the kids scrambling out of the doors.