The Magnolia Palace: A Novel Novels & Stories

Dangerous Attractions The tension in Lucas's office crackled like static electricity. Bella's red-lacquered nails drummed against the doorframe as her gaze slid between Lucas and Sophia with predatory interest. "I can come back later," Bella said, though she made no move to leave. "Unless this is about business? The Muller Corporation has been quite... newsworthy lately." Lucas's jaw tightened. "This is a private meeting, Bella. I'm sure Mark is wondering where you are."

I asked curiously. "Welcome to the storage room where all the furniture and various things Madam Amelia doesn't like but refuses to let someone drive out to a dump. She continues to load up this room as new furniture is shipped in from who-knows-where." Oh, that's nice. I wondered if she let anyone leave the mansion, aside my from parents possible assassin, that is. And without a computer or a phone, how did she get things shipped in? "Oh, what do we have to do here?" I asked after a brief coughing fit from inhaling the smoke.

Smiling faintly, Magnolia replied, "Mr. Kelsey, don't worry. I'm aware of that." After Liam retreated, Magnolia's face stiffened. She turned her phone around and glanced at the bank card issued by the Royal Crown Bank that she had put in her phone case. She had €10,000,000 on the card. At last, she did not take it out. Magnolia and Logan sat in the private room, eating and talking about their daily lives. They cherished their time with each other greatly. Even if they were talking about trivial matters, they still felt quite warm.

* Lawrence * The Magnolia's private wing was the kind of luxury most people only saw on glossy magazine pages or high-end real estate ads they'd never afford. The kind of place where time slowed, and even the silence had polish. The floors were imported marble, white with thin veins of gold like nature had tried its hand at elegance. The walls held original artwork commissioned by painters who wouldn't take calls from museums unless they offered seven digits. And the windows, the windows, they stretched from floor to ceiling, swallowing the sun, the sea, and sometimes, if you weren't careful, your sense of perspective.

Arriving at their destination, Gianni and Gabriel quickly get there and the prince’s bags from the carriage, following Julien to his accommodation. Exhausted from the trip, Julien directly lies on his bed. Gianni and Gabriel, meanwhile, unpack all his things and arrange them in his room, which is smaller than the one in the palace. The architecture and the designs on the walls are also different. Roses are the primary motifs in the palace, but in Magnolia, as the name suggests, magnolias pervade the designs, Magnolia grandiflora.

Magnolia had worn it first. Savannah read the short article in a daze. Magnolia had vanished without a trace during her engagement to Colton Briggs. Declared legally dead after months of fruitless searching. The room felt colder now. The walls closer. She folded the clipping and tucked it into her blazer pocket, her fingers trembling slightly. She had no answers—only the growing certainty that she was stepping into someone else’s ghost story. When she turned to put the books back on the shelf, she noticed something even more disturbing. On the spine of the book that had originally fallen—The Art of Possession—was a tiny smudge of dried red. Not ink. Not paint. Blood?

he said with much conviction, slammed the signed paperwork and slammed it on the huge burgundy conference table then walked out of the room. As the sun rose over the sprawling Carter estate, the palatial mansion stood as a beacon of old-world charm and aristocratic grandeur. In the master bedroom, Mrs. Eleanor Carter sat at her vanity table, her reflection that of elegant beauty, she applied her makeup with practiced precision, her mind racing with the weight of the news she had received the night before.

she said, I could see that she was struggling not to cry. “ Me too, the hospital reminds me of my..mo.. m's death” The word mom felt so strange to me. “ I see her whenever I come to the hospital and it always gives me a panic attack, for the fear of her coming back or the fear of what she has said to me coming to reality ” I said, I had never been this vulnerable to anyone apart from Scarlet and I hated being vulnerable, I just wanted this to end, talking about Mrs. Blackhood, sent chills to my body and the fact that I had somehow caused her death made it all worse, speaking of death, I see could not wrap my hand on what Arabella was trying to do when I walked entered her father's room.

I needed to know if I could really do this. I found myself standing outside Nathaniel’s sleek penthouse building. My heart pounded as I stared up at the towering structure. The security guard recognized me from the charity gala and let me in without question. Before I knew it, I was knocking on Nathaniel’s door. He opened it, looking surprised but not unwelcoming. “Evelyn?” “I need to talk,” I blurted out. He stepped aside, allowing me in. The place was even more luxurious than I’d imagined. Tall windows, sleek furniture, and the city lights twinkling far below us.

Clara admired the grandeur of Andrew Reynolds' mansion, she couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. It was all so overwhelming, so lavish, and so unfamiliar. She felt like a small fish in a big pond, completely out of her depth. But then, a maid appeared and led her up to her room. As she settled onto the bed, she began to feel a little more at ease. Perhaps this new life wouldn't be so bad after all. Just as she was about to change out of her dress, the door burst open, and Micheal walked in. Her heart raced as she tried to comprehend why he was there.