Novel & Cerita Rolife Book Nook Garden House

Lilian Roseforth POV The house stood at the edge of the city, not far from the New Start Center and my bakery, surrounded by a small but well-tended garden. It was nothing like the grand Sterling mansion with its high walls, endless corridors, and formal gardens designed to impress. This house was modest—built of warm, pale stone, with wide windows that let in plenty of sunlight, a sloped roof covered in red tiles, and a front porch where one could sit and watch the world go by.

The foyer was grand, with a sweeping staircase and chandeliers that sparkled like diamonds. She followed Robin through the house, her heart pounding harder with every step. He led her to the kitchen, a sleek, modern space with a marble counter that gleamed under the soft lighting. His parents were out, he’d mentioned casually, leaving the house empty except for the two of them. Jasmine’s nerves spiked. This was a mistake. She should have just let the book go. Robin opened a drawer and pulled out her book, holding it up with a flourish. “Here you go. Pride and Prejudice. First edition. Just as you described.”

My backpack sat in the corner, stuffed with textbooks and notes for tomorrow's cramming session; psychology waited for no one, especially not a forbidden romance. Downstairs, the mansion buzzed with morning activity: staff clattering in the kitchen, the aroma of fresh coffee, bacon sizzling, and pastries baking wafting through the halls like a deceptive promise of comfort. Mom was already in the sunroom, perched at the glass-topped table overlooking the garden—our garden, now bathed in daylight, the oak standing sentinel like a silent witness to our sins.

Robert POV. I stood with the delivery guys, making sure everything is set properly, nothing broken for my little Princess. She deserves the best of the best, her crib was set by them, the matt added, next was her changing table, drawers for all of her new clothes, and finally a book shelf filled with random stories for toddlers. Some are my favorites from childhood, and Kennedy said she did see her reading a children's story the first time they met. Ms. Stone our housekeeper did help, she was setting things in their place right away with me, once the guys left, we moved to set her beddings on, setting her toys in their place, it's when she came up to check her room.

Now, I should think of myself. Firstly I have to discuss with Calvin. About my job. ———— “Wow, I didn't know this existed,” I told Lorraine as I plucked a flower. Its fragrance dissolved in my nostrils. “I thought the house had no garden,” I added. It was evening and after communicating with the last clients I met and we finished the agreement and got my last pay, Lorraine decided to show me the surrounding. “Oh, Calvin just wanted it to be a full garden rather than plants distorting the look of his compound.”

Does he not have money? She was only trying not to owe him anything. Heloise knew that continuing the conversation would only anger him. She chose not to speak and went to change into the dress. ... Rosefield Garden, where Mrs. Smith of The Smith family resides, is a garden with a southern architectural style—small bridges over flowing water, pavilions, and towers. Although not very large, it is exceptionally beautiful. At this moment, the notary public has been invited into Rosefield Garden. Darnell, dressed in a formal white suit, stands in front of a pavilion, gazing at the koi swimming in the pond below. His handsome face is consistently furrowed in thought. His thoughts are somewhat cha

~ Lumiére's POV ~ The garden was a serene oasis, a secluded haven within the confines of the sprawling mansion. The tranquility of the space was expected, given that it was a closed off area of the house, accessible only to a select few. The meticulous care bestowed upon the garden was evident, with every flower in full bloom, exuding fragrances that tantalized the senses. For Lumiére, the garden served as a refuge, a place where he could gather his thoughts and clear his head after the endless meetings that seemed to plague his every waking moment.

It began with the book. She found it on her desk on a Thursday morning, three weeks after the hospital, two weeks after the full account, set on the corner of the desk with the particular and specific precision of something placed rather than left, a hardback with a worn cover she recognized immediately because she had mentioned it once, briefly, in a conversation that had not been about books, a conversation about her mother's garden and what her mother had loved, and she had said: she read this every spring. She said it was the only garden book that understood that gardens were for the people in them, not the other way around. She had said it in passing, a subordinate clause in a longer se

Something that actually had a chance of saving Olyriane from a marriage she didn’t want without getting us both killed in the process. The problem was, I had no idea what that plan looked like. House Rosetti’s compound was even more impressive than I remembered. The East Garden Suite sat at the heart of a sprawling estate that made the Finishing School look modest by comparison. Walls of white stone surrounded manicured gardens where fountains splashed and peacocks wandered. Guards in green livery stood at every entrance, watching visitors with the kind of bored competence that said they’d killed before and wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.