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CHAPTER TWO
Life turned upside down for Olivia in the days that followed. It was nothing short of thrilling! She was rich beyond belief. A dream had become true! But then there was also this feeling as if a heavy weight had suddenly, and mercilessly, been dropped on her. Except, this weight came with enormous wealth. It took her a while to really start believing that Mr. Stanley was telling the truth. She was always on the lookout for that hidden camera crew, but with the new bank accounts, the corporate meetings, the luxury cars, and, finally, the pair of golden keys to the Boston Rusu mansion, she had become a believer. An utterly shocked—and a bit terrified—believer.
That mansion sat at the edge of town in a filthy-rich neighborhood. It stretched out on a wide estate surrounded by green fields and woods. When Olivia stepped out of the chauffeur-driven black Rolls Royce, she practically shook with wonder. The view was perfect, the way the blue sky stretched over the red brick façade of the colossal manor, blending with golden rays of sunshine. It was all a dream.
“I should have brought my camera,” she mumbled at the chauffeur, who smiled professionally at her.
Mr. Stanley got out of his black Mercedes and walked around the other side of the car to stand beside Olivia. “His favorite of all his residences. Andrei spent most of his final years here,” he said.
Olivia clasped her hands in front of her face and stared at the mansion. A huge fountain sat in the middle of the large grounds, forming two majestic stallions with jets of water springing in circles around them. The grounds had a beautifully crafted array of flowers lining the manicured green lawns. From the exotically colored petals, Olivia wasn’t sure she’d ever seen these kinds of flowers before.
“This . . . is . . . beautiful!” Olivia moved toward the mansion. Two gardeners stood by the flowers as she walked past. They bowed respectfully, and Olivia, in reflex, bowed back. While she admired the flowers and the beautiful fragrance in the air, she half-expected to hear a snap as this new world peeled away, like a rug drawn from under her feet; she expected her grey reality to rush back and remind her that this was all a dream. Yet, the birds fluttering overhead, the cool breeze, and the people standing around her all seemed real, as real as she did, as real as this inheritance seemed to be.
“How come Andrei never tried to contact my mom again? If he loved her so much?” Olivia wondered as they climbed up the steps and stopped in front of a white-gloved butler, his hand on a golden door handle, ready to open the entrance to the mansion.
“Wasn’t your mother married to your father?” Mr. Stanley answered her question with his own.
Olivia frowned. “Well, yeah.”
“Andrei was a man of character. It wouldn’t have been his style to cause drama. Now, would you like to tour your new home? It’s rather impressive.”
Olivia found herself nodding enthusiastically. “I’ve never been one to be impressed by material things,” she muttered to herself as she stepped into the breathtaking entrance hall. It had herringbone hardwood floors and ceilings as high as a small church. Large landscape paintings decorated the walnut-paneled walls. A colossal, round chandelier with candlelight bulbs was hanging from the wooden ceiling.
“This is beautiful,” she gaped. “I can’t believe people live in mansions like this.”
“Of course people still live in mansions,” Mr. Stanley said with a chuckle. “But only a very few lucky ones, I suppose.”
Without emotion, the butler opened the large doors to the formal living room—one of many, she guessed. Her mouth dropped once again.
Red carpet, lush and soft, stretched over the formal living room. There were wide windows inside wooden arches reaching almost to the ceiling, the glass gleaming with sunlight. Deep red curtains hung beside them. Olivia craned her neck as she gazed at the golden silk furniture placed strategically around a crackling fire in an enormous stone fireplace that reminded her of a medieval castle. Several smaller crystal chandeliers brightened the room, shimmering like diamonds.
“This way,” Mr. Stanley beckoned, and Olivia nodded.
They came to a large staircase. The steps, covered with gold-lined red carpet, formed a half-circle, leading to the second floor. The walls on the staircase were covered with beautiful paintings and portraits of people Olivia didn’t recognize.
“Andrei . . . I mean Mr. Rusu lived here alone? No family?” Olivia wondered.
“That’s right.”
“It’s such a huge place.”
Mr. Stanley smiled as they turned onto the second floor’s hallway. Olivia pointed at the shields mounted on the wall then let her gaze wander to the swords, maces, and medieval armor on a full figure of a knight, still and imposing.
“Are these real? I mean . . . original?” she asked.
“Everything in this mansion is original,” Mr. Stanley answered with a cocky grin forming on his face. “Andrei was something of a collector, you see. Medieval armor, weaponry, and things like that, especially from Romania. Most of the items you see here are from his castles in Romania, family heirlooms,” he said matter-of-factly.
“I thought Andrei Rusu was self-made?” Olivia asked, peeking over her shoulder at the knight she’d just passed.
“He was. His family lineage stems from impoverished Romanian aristocracy. He climbed his way back up, so to speak,” Mr. Stanley said.
She frowned. All of this was so bizarre, especially the fact that this was all hers now.
“Is something wrong, Olivia?” Mr. Stanley asked.
“No, not really. I’m still trying to make sure this isn’t a dream. I mean, not that long ago I was a boring accountant, a lonely cat lady from Boston. Now I’m Olivia Carter, silent owner of Rusu Corporations, filthy rich and owner of castles and swords and shields? I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but it feels so . . . strange.”
She stopped at a huge painting of a thin man with fierce eyes and a confident smile. One hand was in his left pocket while the other rested flat against his chest, his fingers sporting golden rings with what looked like green crystals.
