The House Of The Seven Gables Novels & Stories

"So you married someone else? Quinn, what did those seven years apart even mean?" Quinn looked at me, her expression settling back into calm. "Conrad… You must understand I'm the heir to the Summers family. I have my own duties. Hector and I are on the same level, and our marriage benefits both families. Hector said that as long as you behave, he can turn a blind eye and let you stay by my side.

Now I knew he'd been bleeding me dry for Riley Anderson, his childhood sweetheart. "I want to refinance the house, too," he added. I stopped what I was doing, my hands frozen in the sink, and turned to stare straight at him. "You really want your four three-year-old sons to end up homeless?" This house wasn't much, just a small three-bedroom, but it was ours—the one we'd fought for, saved for, and sacrificed for. The mortgage wasn't even close to being paid off. His name was on the deed because when we first bought it, I had been out of town on business. He'd told me it would be easier that way, with him making the payments.

My mother turned around rolled her eyes at me shook her head and walked up to the large green Adams Family looking house we had stopped in front of. It was hunter green with elaborate wood working detail, which gave it a charm that was more frightening then homie, and the two large stone gargoyles at the end of the drive way were ominous at best. I stared at the house for a while before heading in to what I thought was going to be my new home.

She’d found herself daydreaming about his lips brushing against hers during work hours last week, and the memory left her flushed. “We’re here.” Gabe’s words startled her. She looked up to see a one-story farmhouse with a front porch that ran along the entire front. The exterior was slate-gray with a steel-blue tin roof and shutters. A large shed sat fifty yards behind the main house. “Wow, it’s so beautiful.” The house wasn’t extravagant, and it didn’t reflect the wealth she knew he possessed, but it held a dazzling quality in its design. “I’m glad you like it. I bought it about six years ago, and I’ve been working on it here and there.”

The air crackled with anticipation, and the heavy stillness of the house only heightened their resolve. They ventured deeper into the estate, stepping cautiously over floorboards that groaned under their weight. Ancient portraits of Amelia’s ancestors watched them from the walls, their expressions stoic and disapproving as if judging their intrusion. With each passing moment, anxiety clawed at Gabriel’s mind—he felt the presence of time slipping away, urging him forward.

Calloway to the east guest suite. Nate smiled at me. So you are the one, he said. The one what, I said. He glanced at his brother. Caden's expression did not change, but something moved behind his eyes that he closed down fast. The one brave enough to show up here without an appointment, Nate said smoothly. I followed him out. The hallway was long and the house was older than the Voss estate, built from darker stone, quieter. Nate walked beside me with his hands in his pockets and the easy energy of someone who had never been required to shrink himself for anyone.

“I am Elizabeth Gable. I trust your journey was… adequate.” She didn’t answer immediately. She took a slow, deliberate breath, as if testing the very air of the North Side for poison. “It was a car,” she said, her voice was a gravelly, low rasp. “It moved. That’s all a journey needs to do.” I felt a sharp, unexpected prick of interest. Most people who entered this house were either paralyzed by its opulence or desperate to please me. This girl seemed to view the Vane Estate as just another cage, perhaps a prettier one, but a cage nonetheless.

Scarlett said softly. With his left hand, Xavier reached out and threw the heavy brass deadbolts. The metal slid back with a loud, concussive clack that sounded like a gunshot in the empty foyer. He pulled the massive doors inward, letting the cold, salt-heavy wind of the Atlantic rush into the house, tearing through the smoke and sending a small swirl of gray ash dancing across the marble floor.

Nothing remained. No blood. No broken pieces. No sign that only hours earlier, a little girl had flown through the air and fallen there. Only the streetlight still shone, its yellow glow falling across the empty crosswalk. Dad stared at that patch of road for a long time. "Let's go," Mom said softly. Dad came back to himself and started the car again. When they got home, everything was exactly as it had been. The two Barbie dolls, one new and one cracked, still sat on the coffee table. Beside them was the cake box that no one had put away, and the slice of strawberry cake left for me. The air still smelled faintly sweet.

“Richard sold you.” “Yes.” “And Ethan paid for you because of the clause,” she said flatly, like she was solving a puzzle out loud. “Of course, he did. He’s desperate for his shares so he bought a wife.” I didn’t know what any of that meant but I nodded anyway. Just then a loud crash came from inside the house. Eleanor opened the doors and walked back inside in a hurry and I followed behind, wiping my cheeks with the heel of my hand. We reached the open study doors in time to hear Zane roar.