Romans & histoires Million Dollar Houses Pierce The Veil

he said quietly, close enough that only I could hear it. "I am breathing," I said back. "Deeper," he replied. I hated that he was right. The suite was the kind of room that made you feel like you'd been living your life incorrectly. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the harbor. There was marble everywhere. Flowers I couldn't name in a vase on a table that probably cost more than three months of my old rent. I stood in the center of it and turned slowly. "This is too much," I said. "It's a room," Alexander said, already checking his phone by the window.

His gaze was locked on the velvet-lined display case on the stage. Inside sat the 'Tear of the Ocean'—a legendary, pear-cut blue diamond that caught every shard of light from the crystal chandeliers above. The crowd held its breath. Fifty million dollars was a staggering sum, even for the CEO of the city's fastest-growing financial empire. "Sold! To Mr. Kasen Thorne!" The ballroom erupted into polite, rhythmic applause. The wealthy matriarchs at Maeva's table turned to her, their eyes glittering with envy. "Three years of marriage, and he still buys you the world," one of them whispered, her smile not reaching her eyes. "You truly are a lucky woman, Maeva."

$350 million. I blinked, rubbed my eyes, and looked again. It was still there – $350 million. The description read: ‘Ultra-modern citadel mansion in the heart of the city, with twenty-four-hour armed patrols, a panic bunker, biometric access for every door, private underground escape tunnels, and a helipad that fits three choppers.’ I let out a slow whistle. “Okay… I like this one… wait, $350 million is fucking too much! But I still like it.”

Serena sat beside Ethan with mixed feelings—part of her wanted to know, but another part was afraid of what she would see. Ethan opened the first folder—photos taken by a private investigator over the last few weeks. The first photo showed a massive mansion in the Hamptons—modern style with floor-to-ceiling glass, an infinity pool facing the beach, and a wide, perfectly manicured lawn. "This is their new house," Ethan explained. "Bought six months ago for eight million dollars. Cash. No mortgage." Serena stared at the photo, her jaw tightening. Eight million dollars. From insurance money that was supposed to be for the “beloved late wife.”

In the Haze Mansion, Bellvue Manor, a billionaire paradise, golden gates swung open to reveal a marble oasis. Crystal chandeliers and silk drapes shimmered in the light, and a sweeping staircase curved upwards to a master suite with a private balcony and panoramic views. Secret hideaways and art masterpieces awaited discovery, while outside, lush greenery and a private beach beckoned, promising serenity and luxury.

Or was it borrowed, influenced by the expectations of the Presley family? -------------- The days that followed were hectic. Jewelers displayed ancestral accessories, florists transformed every area of the estate into a garden, and private chefs tested the meal. I was in the huge ballroom one afternoon, gazing up at the lavish chandelier. Despite its beauty, it was oppressive. All of this—this grandeur, this wealth—was too much to bear. I was a girl from a small village who was acting as someone else. I closed my eyes and pictured a life that was easier. In a little flat, Marco and I share morning coffee and hope for a lovingly constructed future.

I did it for love. It was on a cold night. I sat on a sofa in the living room, passing away the night and waiting for my husband, Maverick Slade, a business tycoon, to return home. Lazily, I sipped a glass cup of wine and my soft laughter filled the room as I passed the time with my favorite TV show. Suddenly, the door of the room burst open and Maverick hurried inside with blood all over his cloth. Startled, I sprang up and the glass of wine slipped from my grip, crashing to the floor.

Simple appreciation wouldn't cut it. There were quite a lot of implications involved, after all. Still, Cecily didn't ask about it. She changed the topic. "Where is the house you bought?" "Halfway up the mountain," Austin replied. Cecily's gaze flickered. She was shocked. It was the top villa in Heavensgate Residence! It would cost at least 100 million dollars! When the Porsche 911 successfully drove into the garage of the villa, Cecily finally chose to accept the truth.

“Yes, he did. It was one with a private elevator, set at the top floor of the Gardens Residence. I think it was about thirty-two million dollars. The price has increased recently, so he should’ve already made tens of millions.” “By the way,” Tara deliberately added. “He paid the full amount.” “Ah, pffff…!” Tara’s parents almost fainted. What was going on here? The realization was pretty tough on them. Whose live-in son-in-law could be so incredible?! He was able to take out thirty-two million dollars just to buy a suite! Now, he even wanted to buy a villa! Did money fall from the sky for him? Wilson ignored their dramatic outbursts. He leaned and bowed to Harvey. “This way, Mr. York.”