Revenge of The Furtive Billionaire Heir

255. Brain Injury

“Follow me,” I’m being instructed as soon as I enter the quaint little house through the doors. I take a brief look around, my newly deepened senses getting acquainted with the new surroundings I’ve found myself in, and there's nothing to complain about. The lavender and cream scent that emanated from Estelle permeated every available surface of the house and then some, along with the intermingling scents of the cut flowers artistically arranged in various cute vases on almost every available flat surface, one vase each, and the smell of firewood burning in the fireplace. The wallpapers are mauve themes, the skirtings are white, and the floor is made of polished hardwood, and the house lighting is ambient. There is a window seat near the large window I failed to see from the outside, and the wall next to the window is covered with a bookrack. I squint at the old-looking books, trying to see if there are any names on the spines. Some have names, but a lot of them are nameless.

Interest