Chattel
noun
(in general use) a personal possession.
CHAPTER 1
The moon was high up in the sky and the city glowed with an artificial glow. Distant from the city, a lonely mansion stood with vast empty lands around it. Inside the mansion, the top floor on the left was brightly lit, huddled voices spoke fast and quick around a round table.
A tall sinuous women, her face proud and scornful at the same time. She sat at the head of the round table, her power and confidence emanating in waves to the rest of them sitting around the table. They talked about the falling profits and selling and endless regrets which could've been prevented. Blames were thrown against the woman in the black dress yet her head was held high. She battled using her sharp tongue as a weapon and defended herself with the more subtle seductiveness that projected from her body language.
A small whimper interrupted her train of thought. An incessant calling from a tiny voice emerged and the voice became louder with each calling, disturbing the flow of her speech.
"Mum"
"Mum"
"Mum Mummy Mummy Mummy"
A small boy, he had the hair like silk with the colour of melting sugar that was just turning into hot caramel. He had ruby cheeks and the eyes that mirrored the ocean. He stood close to the long legs of his mother and looked up at the tall authoritative figure. His left hand clasped onto the edge of her dress, pulling on it gently while the other held a small soft fluffy bear harder against his chest.
His eyes were desperate and with every 'mum' that was said aloud which was then ignored, the further he crippled further into himself as he fought the fear of rejection.
"Darling! Hush!" Came back the harsh reply. It was like a bite of a viper that took a part of his heart and the boy crouched further, holding back his tears.
"Mama..." The small boy whimpered softly again, this time in sadness.
Johanna regretted the unleash of her whip and closed her eyes briefly. When she opened her eyes again, her demeanor changed immediately and she looked at her son differently.
Her eyes softened and with difficulty her lips turned to stretch themselves into a kind smile.
"Darling, mummy is busy. Now wait outside and I'll be there in a few minutes, okay darling?" She cooed. The room buzzed with murmurs and low whispers, most probably on how
fast the newly coupled Tomlinson's family was falling apart.
The boy nodded, partly relieved that her mother wasn't too angry at him.
The boy's name was Louis. Louis Tomlinson.
The boy who was the current heir to a company that earned profits in millions of pounds.
He would soon inherit a mass of fortune that mere mortals could only dream of.
YOU ARE READING
Chattel *Larry/Zialliam* BoyxBoy
Romance"What do you want for your birthday, darling?" His mother asked, running her perfectly manicured hands through her son's hair. "I-I want a toy, mum. A toy that can talk back. A toy that stays with me all the time" Louis replied, his eyelids fighting...
