Now, with Allie’s happiness radiating off to everyone, and with her birthday on full swing only a few minutes later-we were all practically turned to pink princesses just without the tiara and dresses, singing the birthday song as her parents helped her cut her cake. Once done, she was showered by gifts from everyone-as the only grandchild in the family, she was bound to be showered by gifts all over, its’ expected. She’s a sweet little kid that everyone can’t help but love. So, she gets all the love the Kingston family can offer.
After the cake was cut and we had all had dinner together, we were back to chilling together in the living room again, chatting about practically everything and nothing, just catching up on life. And it was all going good, until Mom’s voice suddenly came, putting an end to my peaceful moment.
“Christian, don’t think I’ve forgotten what we spoke about the other day.” She suddenly started, her pointed gaze on me. “You promised to bring your girlfriend to me, and you came alone. What’s her name again…yeah, Isabella, is it? The lady on the news.”
***
Isabella Montague.
My finger drummed the steering wheel of my car, Hailee Steinfeld’s song End This L.O.V.E blaring through the speaker as I pressed down on the peddle, the car speeding up as my hand turned the steering wheel to take a sharp corner down the lane of my family mansion.
I didn’t slow down on my speed as I approached the sturdy gate, made of wrought iron and lined by the sides by the imposing stone walls, adorned with intricate carvings and ornate details, knowing it would open without me having to worry, and it did even before I approached, giving me enough way to drive into the mansion.
I was instantly welcomed by the meticulously landscaped lawns that stretch elegantly into the distance, the expanse green spaces maintained ardently, mirroring the prestige of the centuries standing mansion passed down from one generation of Montagues to the next. Tall, ancient trees stand as silent sentinels, providing both shade and a sense of enduring wisdom.
The surroundings are adorned with vibrant flowers, carefully arranged to perfection in manicured beds adding a burst of color to the lush greenery, not a speck of color out of place. Roses, tulips and lavender adds to the visual splendor, creating a picturesque scene that changes with passing months, giving it a natural transition. Workers move around, all in uniforms, maintaining every bit of it and ensuring nothing stands out, or gets out of place.
Water fountains grace the estate, their gentle cascades adding a soothing melody to the atmosphere. Elaborate stone fountains, adorned with intricate sculptures and classical motifs serve as focal points amidst the carefully planned gardens. The sound of trickling water during one’s strolls creates a tranquil ambiance-the one of the few things I actually enjoy about the suffocating air in the mansion.
Overall, my family mansion has this air of refined elegance of old money, a testament of a bygone era which my family wishes to uphold its tradition regardless of the time transition to the 21st century. It has an architectural mastery impossible to be found in this century, sprawling landscapes and timeless elegance intertwined befitting of a legacy to be passed onto generations.
My Ferrari LaFerrari hums softly as I drove over the cobblestone paving, lined by the sides by ancient towering trees that form a majestic canopy overhead, creating a natural archway. The driveway meanders gracefully, allowing a glimpse of the sprawling lawns. And as I approached the mansion, the driveway widens, revealing a circular courtyard adorned with a finely crafted fountain at its center.
The car came to a halt once in front of the mansion. I turned it off and stepped out, handing my keys to the awaiting valet. My boots clad feet took a few steps up the staircase leading to the entrance. I was dressed in a Burberry overcoat with a subtle check pattern that subtly nods at the brand’s heritage, the rich camel color adding a touch of aesthetic to it all.
Beneath, I don a cashmere sweater, paired with tailored Ralph Lauren trousers, to provide a classic silhouette to align with the timeless style I was aiming for. For footwear, I chose a pair of knee-high leather boots by Jimmy Choo, the one of the three of the latest collection. With sleek lines and subtle gold accents, it stands as an evident of the elite collection.
I accessorized the whole look with a pair of oversized tortoiseshell sunglasses by Chanel perched on my node, shielding my eyes from the sun while simultaneously adding a touch of elegance to my whole.
I didn’t put much effort into my outfit, at least, it’s nothing out of my ordinary ensemble. However, I may or may not have purposely paired up paired it like that knowing I would be returning home, and there are a couple of people I would meet that would or not judge my attire.
My hair, I left it in its natural curls, flowing down my back, courtesy of Amy-whom had went straight to her home to meet Nona while I chose to drive myself back to my family home straight from the airport having arrived back in England an hour ago.
Besides, I like the sense of freedom that comes with driving myself. I need something to take my mind off everything, and driving myself just happens to be what I want-getting the fresh air and inhaling it. Keeping those thoughts out of my mind, I tried to focus on my current task in hand.
The grand double doors were opened for me by the guards standing there, whom gave a curt nod as she they said their greetings. I offered them a smile back, returning the greeting as I stepped into the grand halls of the mansion-instantly welcomed by the distant sound of classical music being played somewhere in the near distance.
Yup, sounds like home alright.
With a destination in mind, I maneuvered the halls with the knowledge of everywhere like the back of my hand. On the way, I met and was greeted by the countless guards, whom I all offered a curt nod back and a response.
Upon reaching my destination, I stepped in, my boots clicking against the marble floor while my lips slanted into the widest grins I could possibly plaster. “Good morning, family.” I stepped into the dining room, where my so called family were dining together, having breakfast.
The minute my voice came, almost all of them reached out, the air becoming tensed almost immediately-the glares I’d pretty much anticipated shooting in my direction but I paid no heed to it. Rather, my gaze was set on a particular someone, the only one I am genuinely excited to see.
I all but skipped to where his seat is, before leaning down to wrap my arms around him. “Hey, dad.” I greeted my old father, leaning into his warm embrace.
My father, the old aristocrat with nothing but grey hair placed a hand on my arms, patting it adorningly, his own lips slanted into a warm smile. “Vivien.” He called out my second name, it being the only name he addresses me with. “I’m glad you’re back. Come, sit, let’s have breakfast together.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.