⚠ To be rewritten.
~BOOK 1 IN THE ROSSETT TRILOGY~
The moment Theo Lycaris first laid eyes on Anastasia, he fell for her . . . hard. But little did he know where his love for her would lead him.
Anastasia Rossett had one motive for coming back to Ma...
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(Ashton's P.O.V.)
I was thinking I might as well just start living in this place. I mean, I didn't think anyone would even know. I could just exist in one of the rooms because no way did they use all of them.
I decided to start my self-led-tour from the top floor. The hallways were pretty impressive, as expected. Occasional house decorations were arranged in beautiful patterns by the walls that looked highly classic . . . but of course, I didn't touch them. They were so well kept, I was afraid I might damage their beauty even with a slight touch.
I wasn't sure whether I'd be able to find my way back. This house was so damn confusing, it was as if they had deliberately made the pathways so complicated just to trap any intruders.
I wondered what would happen if we got caught roaming the house. Would they send in people to arrest me?
Oh that boy trespassed our house, though he didn't take anything but arrest him please.
I smirked at the thought, but no, I somehow couldn't imagine Xavier Rossett in the same room as a cop. Those two just didn't mix in my mind.
I saw two people coming out of a room a short way from where I was standing. Shit, I cursed mentally. I quickly opened the nearest door and closed it behind me. I leaned my ear against the door to listen if they were coming towards me but they didn't. Their footsteps just neared the door and then faded away again. Once I was sure nobody was coming this way I almost opened the door to get out before changing my mind midway.
Well . . . I might as well just start my investigation here.
I turned on my phone's flashlight to find the light switch.
When the lights came on, I was staring straight at an enormous portrait of Xavier Rossett himself. Self obsessed much? This was probably his home office. My fingers were already itching with the desire to tear the room apart. The room looked highly formal, everything was arranged neatly on a mahogany desk that sat in the centre of the room. I couldn't help but let my fingers trail over it's well crafted surface. The walls were painted a dull brown and were covered with loads of family pictures. Some of the people in the frames, I realised, I could recognise.
One was of Xavier with Gino, the youngest Rossett. I never had really quite seen him much . . . I didn't think anyone had. Gino had to be the most well protected member of the family, it was almost impossible to get your hands on him. Various times the reporters in our town had tried to get to him, because well, in our stupid town even a stupid kid could be anyone's center of attention.
