The Gray House Novels & Stories

Gray. “How about the company?” He asked again, which made Lily and her mom nervous. They looked at each other, and as agreed, they kept everything a secret from Mr. Gray. Mrs. Gray chose to stay at the hospital to watch over Mr. Gray. Meanwhile, Lily went home alone to their house. It was dark and no one was there when she came home. She heard from her mother that they had to come home because they no longer had money to pay for them. Lily went straight to the kitchen and got some tequila from her dad's collection. She immediately opened it to ponder her own decisions in life.

Lily's mind was filled with questions and doubts as she stared at her phone, unsure of what to do next. Lily's attention shifted from her phone to the sound of the doorbell ringing through the silent halls of the Gray mansion. She checked the time on her phone, and her eyes widened as she saw it was already midnight. Who could be visiting at this hour? The mansion, once filled with the warmth and laughter of the Gray family, now felt empty and vast, with Lily living alone in its sprawling spaces. After Robert and Margrate Gray had handed over the reins to her, they had retired to their dream house, leaving Lily to navigate the solitude of the grand estate.

He just wanted to see him. "The largest white and grey house is Mr. Blythe's home," said the Driver as he made a turn. Paris spotted it and she felt her heart begin to race, nervous and excited to see him. The Carriage soon stopped. Paris paid him. "Do you want me to wait on you madam?" asked the coachman. "No, I'll be fine here," retorted Paris. The coachman nodded and went off. It was evening when Paris arrived at Greyson's home. She couldn't enter his home. It was surrounded by a wall with a large white gate.

Forgiven. My ghost hovered in that ice-cold courtyard, nearly frozen through. On New Year's Eve, fireworks cracked and boomed outside, painting the night sky in bursts of blinding gold and various colors. From the manor windows, the display was spectacular. But inside, the holiday dinner was a tomb—silent and stagnant. Father sat at the head of the table. Before him were two place settings. One was for Matthew.

Hanging my bag on my shoulder, I followed him outside, stroking out of his room as we made our way to the main hall. “Have you gone insane, Christian? How could you do that to Katherine—” the woman’s voice quickly halted immediately I reached her sight, stepping away from the shadow of Professor Grey. “Hannah didn’t inform me you had a guest.” Her eyes stilled on me for a second more before pushing back to the man. “Good day to you too, Brown,” Professor Grey greeted her before introducing me to her. “Brown, this is Ms. Julianna Gabbys.” “Hi there, it’s nice meeting you,” said the woman to me. She appeared really nice too. She was probably the only person associated with Professor Grey who s

I hadn’t just symbolically surrendered myself to a devil. I’d erased my past, and replaced it with his. Lena Gray, who was raised in Portland died that night in the river. And now, Lena Ravencroft lived with a devil by her side, in a castle-looking house in the— “Wait,” I said. “Where are we exactly?” Ash turned slowly. Raised an eyebrow, like now-you-ask? I kept staring until he finally replied. “Astoria. Outskirts, private land. This house isn’t registered under anyone’s name. Just like its residents.”

Except it wasn’t really a house. It was a stone mansion nestled deep in the forest, wrapped in vines and mystery, perched at the edge of Graymoor like a secret carved into the trees. No one dared venture too close—not even the boldest of teenagers. There were rumors, whispers of wolves howling on windless nights, lights flickering in the attic, and strange sigils burned into the bark of trees nearby. But to Ashara, it was simply home. A lonely one. A quiet one. ⸻

Every single promise made on their short-lived honeymoon was long gone and forgotten. “I think I’ll go to bed, Lara,” Francine mumbled when they reached the opulent house and surrounding estate outside Athens which had once been Demis’s permanent home. Meghan had made it into Christophe’s car. Lara watched from the window as Demis’s widow was helped out, the very picture of feminine fragility. Lara’s teeth gritted. ‘Maybe I should practice sobbing and throwing hysterics!’ she said to herself. ‘Childish… You’re being childish,’ a little voice replied to her. ‘She is his father’s widow and he takes that tie too seriously to ignore her apparent distress.’

He asked me to come down for a bit and I can’t help but wonder the type of game he was playing. Immediately I closed my door, I rushed to the mirror and expected my hair was a complete mess. For a moment, I considered washing up but if I did, it may make him think that am trying to impress him which am not so I just pull my hair into a bun and washed my face. Getting to the stairs, the lights were turned off but they were tea candles, lighting up a path to the backyard. There were golden and red lights hanging above the swimming pool and the red rights read “I’m sorry for being the worst host on the planet”.

You know those days when you're absolutely certain you hate someone's guts? Every little thing about them drives you crazy the way they scrunch their nose at your cooking, the critical tone when they point out dust on a shelf, the cold indifference in their eyes when they walk past you like you're invisible. That's how I feel about him. Julian Blackwood. My boss. The billionaire who treats me like I'm beneath his notice unless I'm doing something wrong. And then I found out someone wanted him dead. I should have let it happen. I should have kept my mouth shut and watched the empire crumble around the man who made my life miserable. But here's the thing about hate it's dangero