This is the first book of a trilogy. All books must be read in chronological order as you may not understand what is happening and I will not be responsible for the caused confusion.
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BRIELLE
One night turned into a complete fiasco that see...
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I stepped out of the Rolls Royce after it stopped in front of my family's estate in Rome. I buttoned my jacket as I climbed up the front stairs and entered the palace that I had grown up in.
Now, I barely slept here. I had a mansion of my own, plus many apartments all sound the continent. But whilst I stayed in Rome, I usually resided in my penthouse, many kilometres away from the estate.
It gave me peace to know that I had a separate place to be in and make myself comfortable. The house was my escape from the underworld. Everything I needed and more in order to stay sane. I entered the foyer that had two curved staircases opposite one another. The space was lit up by a giant crystal and glass chandelier which hung from the second floor's ceiling. The floors were chequered in black and white marble which covered most of the first floor. The entire space was decorated with minimalistic sculptures and vases alongside a few paintings my grandparents were able to purchase via auctions. One of my least favourite details was the floor-to-ceiling mirrors with golden frames which managed to cover some parts of the walls.
There were also many black stone columns that held the place together and were updated just a few years back since the ones that had been holding up the house before that were over two hundred years old and falling apart.
I immediately moved to the right where a hallway led to one of my favourite rooms of the house. The emerald lounge. It was called so because of the dominant colour of the room but it also brought back many great memories of my brother as well as my mother. We've spent a great amount of time back in the day and every time I entered it, a sense of nostalgia hit.
This hallway stretched even further and led to the greenhouse my grandmother cherished so much. The moment the room came into view, I saw my mother sitting on one of the emerald green couches, reading some book by the fireplace. It was the middle of April yet the weather seemed to be quite chilly. It was perfect for my mother who was the reader of the family.
Back when my father was a decent man, he completely remade one of the rooms leading to the greenhouse into a library where he purchased heaps of books for his loving wife. She still cherished what a beautiful thing he had done for her and stays in the room for hours every day.
Yet I can't help and wonder if she thinks about how times have changed.
I mean she has to.
Years ago, my parents were all in love and relished in the life they'd built together. Now, they slept in separate rooms, ate separately and only talked when absolutely necessary. And it was all because of his fucking greediness.
My mother must have sensed me watching her silently, leaning against the archway, and looked in my direction. A smile spread across her face as she dropped the book and headed in my direction.
I met her halfway before hugging her and keeping her close to me for a second longer. Maybe I was a cruel and selfish idiot when it came to life but I've always cherished my mother. And now that I was much older, I understood what she had to go through to ensure my siblings and I had a good childhood.
