AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Ten minutes later were driving along the coast. I look out the window admiring the houses. Most of them looking like something out of an architectural magazine. Its breath taking.
“Are we taking the scenic route round celebrity Ville?” I laugh.
She pulls into a long narrow driveway.
“I can assure you that the Garo’s are far from celebrities,” she lightly chuckles. “This is where I live now.”
My mouth is agape. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to imply...”
She waves me off.
“Nothing to be sorry for. You want to hear what I said when I first seen the house. I think it went along the lines of asking what type of pretentious asses live around here? Or something to that effect.”
We pull up to a large gated entrance where a man in his early thirties stands guard on the other side.
“Okay,” I draw out as Lexy pushes a button rolling down the window to enter a code for the gates to open.
“Good afternoon, Ms Green. May I ask who your passenger is today?”
“A friend, Larry. Can you just let us through please?” she responds in irritation.
“Just doing my job,” he retorts waving her on through the gate.
“Well you don’t do it with Saint when he has people over.”
He takes no notice continuing to wave her on by.
“Asshole. I’m sick to death of how Saint gets away with murder and yet I get interrogated. Pisses me off,” she says over the sound of the crunching gravel, taking a right-hand turn past a large but beautifully carved stone circular driveway.
I try not to gawk as the full scale of the house comes into view but holy shit. This is not a house. I live in a house, but this, this is a mansion.
Lexy pulls into, well I don’t even know what to call it. It’s not exactly a garage, more like a mini house that’s filled with expensive cars. Letting out a whistle, I step out of her car taking in the most expensive collection I’ve ever seen. There’s two stunning Bugatti’s, a yellow Lamborghini Urus, and a royal blue Audi Spyder. Lexy’s white Tesla looks like it belongs in a scrap yard parked next to all these beautiful cars.
“Wow. All these cars all yours?” I ask stunned.
“Not as such no. There Eric and Saints cars but Eric says I can use them anytime. Saint doesn’t agree though. Apparently if I’m ever seen in one of them my life won’t be worth living and bla, bla, bla,” she says waving her hand around animatedly. “I won’t give Saint the satisfaction so I drive my own car. Anyway, let’s go in and see what Ms Watson has baked today.”
“You sure no one’s home?” I ask pausing to look over all the cars again to double check Saints not here.
“Nope. Saint was driving his Bentley this morning.”
I watch her as she pulls away a red cloth revealing a black and red Harley V- Rod underneath.
“See this bike,” she says running her fingers softly over the polished handlebars. “That’s Saints baby. No one’s allowed within ten feet of it, but I like fucking with him every now and again.”
“Oh yeah?”
She points up at the camera above us.
“Yeah. I swear he comes down here at night just to tuck her in.” she laughs. “He loves this bike more than life itself.”
I walk over it letting out an admiring whistle. I’ve never seen a Harley up close. Hell, I’ve never seen any of these cars before except on TV advertisements. I swoon over how sexy and dangerous it looks.
“I wouldn’t get too close if I where you. That’s his absolute pride and joy. He lets know one near it. Not even the girls he takes home. C’mon, I’ll introduce you to Ms Watson before she leaves for the day,” she says throwing the cover back onto the bike. “She’s the best baker I know. She’s even been teaching me a little.”
We walk up marble steps to the entrance where I’m immediately taken aback by the impressive foyer and the huge crystal chandelier that hangs over head. I’m beginning to think that maybe she wasn’t joking about the whole stepdad being in the mafia thing. I can’t help but feel like I’ve entered a whole other world, far from the simplistic one I’m used to.
“C’mon in,” she tells me walking down a long white corridor as I take in the massive size of her house. White marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and modern interior flows from the front hall throughout the house. The ultra-modern style is nice, but the house doesn’t have that family feel. The pristine sofas don’t even look like they’ve ever been sat on. There’s no family photographs like there is in my house, just intricately carved boiserie doors hanging from ceiling to floor. You could almost mistake it for a show house rather than a lived-in home. The marble tiles are so squeaky clean my converse literally make a squeaking sound every time I walk. Its irritating if I’m being honest.
