Luigi Mansion House Novels & Stories

He bowed and greeted me once again before leaving. “That was a nice move. How did you know he loves the kitchen?” I asked Miracle for her instead me to relieve Max of his duty. “He reeked of Lemon bread, spaghetti, and Chocolate. There was some on his tummy also and his hands were having crumbs of left-over food.” Miracle chimed. “Nasty wolf!” I said and she boasted. Always so proud. My mauve heels made noise with every step. I entered the huge porch area of the house. It would be a misnomer to call it a house. It was a mansion, a villa. A huge one. A beautiful one. I scanned the interior.

Sun setting on the horizon and rays cascading through the large balcony sliding doors cast an inviting glow to the room that took away the weariness. I glanced around the immaculate, cream-colored Sterling Suite; this is the finest, most costly accommodation on the Dorian coast. This is more than my six-month income for one night, but it's money well spent. If only I had mastered the art of saving money and adhering to a budget, both of which I have yet to master at the ripe old age of 30.

But he would rather hear the harmonious melody of the ripples and feel the gentle sea breeze than soar through the air. After ten minutes, he noticed the lush greenery neatly trimmed into various shapes that served as the mansion’s barrier. A tall golden gate in the center allows more than two vehicles to pass. The words “Isla Lutherio” are engraved on that massive gate’s arch. Trees with lush leaves provide shade on both sides of the driveway. After a few kilometers, they came across the golden gazebo as the rotunda. The tall, white structure can be seen from a few meters away. Their mansion resembled a palace in many ways. The golf cart he was riding in stopped in front of the mansion. Fro

SICILY, ITALY (DE LUCA'S RESIDENCE) The De Luca mansion stood majestically, its stone façade gleaming in the fading light. The sprawling gardens were meticulously manicured, with perfectly trimmed hedges and vibrant flowers that added a pop of color to the otherwise serene atmosphere.

He leaned in, kissed my forehead, and whispered, "Stay here, okay? Get some rest." I nodded with a weak smile. But as soon as the door closed behind him, my body went into motion. I needed to put an end to this. To all the lies. — The Romano mansion was still as imposing and cold as ever, as if it had never known warmth. The moment I stepped into Luigi’s office, he slowly turned in his chair, as if he already knew I was coming. “Lily…” “Don’t say my name,” I cut him off, keeping my voice steady. “Just tell me why.”

I could think of a plan of how I would get out of this mess that I was in. “Rosa, how many rooms does the mansion have?” I asked. I'd always used the same spaces, even though I knew the place was bigger than that. “Oh, dear, it's many, many rooms, not even counting Mr. de Lucas's sanctum.” “His what?” “Mr. De Luca's room is upstairs.” “I've never seen it.” I'd never been to the top floor.” “You should take a walk around the mansion, huh? Get to know the place a little.”

Adeline walks past me to open the front doors as I turn around and see Dante leaning heavily against Daveed and Luca. “I’m fine, Jean,” he says as if reading my mind. “Get inside.” The mansion is even more impressive inside. Keeping the minimal theme, there are barely any decorations here and it feels a lot less homey than Dante’s estate. This mansion looks like one you’d see in movies, perfectly kept, and looks unlived in. “Jean, open that door please.” It was Luca, his voice sounding strained from the effort of bearing most of Dante’s weight. “That one. That’s the infirmary.”

“Personality, huh? You mean the pile of shoes by the door and the faint smell of gym socks?” Maya stifled a laugh as Lucas and Liam glared at her. “At least it’s homey,” Lucas countered defensively. “But it’s not this,” Lily said, gesturing to the sprawling elegance around them. “I think I like Lucian’s mansion more.” Lucas’s jaw tightened, and Liam huffed in irritation, but before they could argue further, a well-dressed butler appeared at the base of the staircase. His suit was immaculate, and his posture screamed refinement.

And that fateful day, he had been too far away, caught in his own vices at Angels Den when Luca had called to say he had to leave the mansion for an event. Back then, Mrs. Luigi hadn’t started working with them, and there were no live-in staff. Only Luca, Aurora, and Vito occupied the mansion. He felt really pleased to know that a little girl, who he was related to, and who hadn’t even stayed with us for that long could recognize him that much. It was a thrilling feeling and despite being drunk and high, he found myself rushing home to her. He closed his eyes briefly, blocking the darker memories that threatened to creep in, and inhaled the faint lavender lingering in Aurora’s room.

The Moretti estate had always felt cold. Even in summer. Elena noticed it the moment the gates closed behind Lucian’s car. The mansion stood tall and immaculate under the pale evening sky — white stone, towering windows, perfection carved in architecture. It looked less like a home and more like a monument. To power. To legacy. To control. Lucian stepped out first and walked around to open her door. She hesitated. “You don’t have to come inside,” he said quietly.