All She Wanted To Be Was You.
- Leituras 1,054
- Votos 55
- Capítulos 12
Amidst the foggy abandoned mansion Cass Wilde stood in a once a priced jewel of the last generation. With a lamp in hand, she continually stepped on the creaking termite infested wooden boards held loosely by rusty nails hoping to finally locate the object that was once hidden and soon will be unravel.
It was early morning yet peculiarly dark. The dew had just set on the leaves of a nearby crawling plant that extends further than the frame of the old french doors that were once gleaming white, with only a little candle wax left she hurried, feet pattering and the hem of her summer dress waving from side to side.
Turning around a corner her dim light gleamed at a huge blood red door Cass grinned knowing that her long tiring journey for justice would soon come to an end.
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The villa had always whispered. Even before Isadora Morelli returned, its walls remembered. The stone corridors held echoes of footsteps long vanished. The garden, overgrown and fragrant with white roses, pulsed with secrets buried beneath its roots. And the crypt-sealed, silent, waiting-still breathed. She hadn't meant to come back. Not after the fire. Not after the opera house fell silent and the Society scattered like ash. But something had called her-a letter unsigned, a name half-erased, a memory that refused to die. The air was thick with violets and ghosts. She stepped through the iron gate, the wind curling around her like a question. The villa loomed ahead, its windows dark, its heart still burning. Somewhere beneath the nursery floorboards, the ledger slept. Somewhere in the studio, Luca's final canvas waited. And somewhere in the garden, the flame she had inherited stirred. Not with hunger. With recognition. She was no longer the girl who danced in velvet and prophecy. She was no longer the heir crowned in fire. She was something else now. A witness. A reckoning. A choice. And as the door creaked open, the villa exhaled. "Welcome home."
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