Mystery White Marble Novels & Stories

He had no idea how he made it to the morgue, but eventually he snapped out of it. "You'll have to brace yourself, Mr. Terrason," said the forensic doctor, but he sounded so far away. The white sheet was pulled back. The body was burned beyond recognition, but the diamond ring on the finger struck Samuel like lightning. His chest tightened until he couldn't breathe. The room spun. He nearly collapsed, catching himself against the wall. "No… this isn't possible…" His hand hovered over the ring, trembling, then recoiled as if burned. Reality was worse than anything he'd imagined.

The main doors were wide, made of dark wood with silver designs carved into them. We walked in together. The doors closed behind us with a heavy sound. Inside, the floor was white marble tiles. Clean and smooth. They reflected the light above and even showed faint reflections of our steps as we moved while a large chandelier hung from the ceiling. On the walls, pictures lined both sides of the hall. Pictures of old pack leaders, formal gatherings, moments from history that I wanted to keep. Everything was arranged neatly, like nothing was ever out of place. "It's different," Mara whispered.

In spite of my disoriented state, I couldn’t help but fall in love at the sight of Nicholas’ bathroom interior. All white, like his room. The floors were made of white marble. There was a white ottoman under the white table beside the sink. The white table extended into a cabinet with crystal drawer knobs. There were tall white ceramic vases in the corners that had green plants. The entire left wall was made of mirrors. To the right was a white marble tub that could easily fit two people, beside a glass wall that was covered by white curtains. I was pretty sure that the curtains would open up to the view of the ocean.

The huge windows are covered with thick gray curtains and the sofas are pure white. White marble and sandstone floors stretch as far as the eyes can see. At the far left corner of the room, a huge grandfather clock chimes softly. But, wait for it… it’s made entirely from glass. “Someone never grew out of his obsession with the colour white, I guess.” Bhyron finally places me on one of the sofas. It feels like a sin to lounge against the pure white comfort. “Just say you love the decor, Amani. I’m sure a compliment will not kill you.” He replies, humour dancing in his eyes.

After leaving Blakeney’s office, the pair made their way straight down the first hall to a nondescript wooden door, which the older man opened to reveal some kind of grand entryway. Right in the middle of the beautiful, white marble flooring was a fountain with a statue of a nude woman—maybe Aphrodite? James thought—and winged cherubs shooting water out of their mouths across her sprawled frame.

My legs wobbled and faltered, but I somehow managed to keep running. As a towering set of double doors appeared ahead of me, I did scream out with relief. I was in a wide hallway, full of curling arches and curved pedestals with marble statues. The doors ahead of me were larger than the ones that led into Castle Mist, and were beautiful in a strange way. They seemed to be made entirely of marble, both black and white. A set of horns curved and spiraled, acting as the handles to the doors. While one side of the door was primarily black, the other was white. It reminded me of Yin and Yang. The white handle was on the black side, and vice versa. The point of the curling horns glistened with dea

Another one responded. I took a glance at them before looking away. Not gonna lie, all of them are definitely heart stealers. Marcus looked like Alpha Paleframe. But rest of them looked like that woman. "Mauve! You walk in first!" Alpha Paleframe stopped in front of the hall room. The walls were built with marbles and white tiles. There was a large Golden Full Moon in the center of the room, dazzlingly beaming with its silver ray. As if a real Moon has been placed here.

Even by my standards, this is over the top but anything that helps in putting down Dominic is a win for me. The room is enveloped in a dark gray color scheme that reminds me of a moonless night sky, with a polished black marble floor that subtly shines in the light, reflecting the sleek silver legs of the conference table. At the far end of the room stands a proud bronze statue of a wolf, mounted on a black marble base with intricate details highlighted, from its sharp claws to its textured fur, everything screams power.

But it's the staircase that stops me cold— twin curves of white marble that sweep upward like something from a Hollywood movie, with a banister that gleams gold under the crystal chandelier hanging overhead. I try not to gawk, but it's impossible. Every surface screams money. The artwork on the walls isn't prints or reproductions— these are originals, oils that probably have their own insurance policies. The marble floor beneath my feet is so polished I can see my reflection, distorted and small. So damned small. I feel totally out of my depth here.

Eduard Payne loved marbles, his whole mansion was made of it. White pillars propped up the entire structure, and the painted ceiling gave the place an ancient greek nuance. He also liked gold, all of the door handles were plated in gold. Not Gabriel’s taste, he was more of a wood kind of person.