Chapter 2
Fake Vow True Luna
Chapter 2: My Auntâs Villa
The tall hedges that surrounded the property reminded me of the days I would
spend with my childhood best friends, Nathan and Alvin, as we would play hide and
seek amongst the thick branches.
The cupolas on either side of the house reminded me of how we would climb up
there against my auntâs wishes so we could look at the birdsâ nests, and how we
would get a good scolding from my aunt afterwards.
Inside, I could see a light on upstairs in my auntâs bedroom. Seeing that light filled.
me with a bit of warmth, and I paused for a moment to look up at it with a smile on my face.
âOlivia?â a somewhat familiar voice suddenly said. It sounded different, gruffer, but
I still recognized it immediately. I spun around to see my auntâs gardener, an old
man named Clint, standing behind me in his wool sweater and worn overalls.
âClint,â I said with a smile. The gardener, who was getting on in years now, walked
up to me and wrapped his arms around me. He had a limp now, which he didnât have.
before. âYour legâ¦â I muttered, pointing.
The old gardener shrugged. âArthritis,â he said. âThey werenât lying when they said
that getting old ainât for the faint of heart. Anyway⦠Youâre back in the pack now,
huh?â
I nodded. âMy eviction order was lifted,â I said. âBut I donât have anywhere to go. I
hope my aunt will let me stay here until I get back on my feet.â
Suddenly, Clintâs eyes went from smiling to full of sorrow. âYou havenât heard?â he
asked quietly.
I shook my head and scrunched my nose. âNo. Havenât heard what?â
âYour aunt died six months ago,â he said. âIn her sleep.â
At that moment, I felt my heart sink and absolutely shatter at the bottom of my stomach. I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing would come out other than a strained squeak of pain. Sure, my aunt and I didnât have the best relationship,
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but she was all I had left now.
But now, it seemed as though I really had no one.
Before anything could be said, I stumbled forward and threw my arms around the old gardener. He stiffened for a moment before he wrapped his arms around me and let me cry into his shoulder for several minutes.
When no more tears would come, I stepped back and wiped my nose with my hand.
âSorry,â I muttered. âItâs justâ¦â
Clint shook his head. âHere.â He reached into his pocket and withdrew a sealed. envelope, then handed it to me. âIâve been keeping it with me in case you show up. Your aunt asked me to make sure that no one opens it except for you.â
I took the envelope, still scrunching my nose as I blinked back tears. But when I
opened the envelope, that look of despair turned into one of surprise.
It was a deed to the house with my name on it, along with a key.
After all these years, my aunt had left her villa to me. I was stunned.
âRâReally?â I whispered, looking up at the gardener with tears in my eyes. He
nodded, and smiled slightly through his thick mustache.
âYep,â he replied. âI donât know whatâs there. But that was the blessing your aunt
left you.â
My eyes were wide as I looked up at the old villa. As if I was in a trance, I slowly
walked up to the front door and put the key into the lock. I turned it and heard the
satisfying click before I swung the door open and looked into the place of old
memories and new beginnings.
As I walked in and flicked on the light, a gasp caught in my through. It looked
perfect, as though it had been renovated. I guessed that my aunt must have fixed it up before she died, which was confusing considering the fact that she was always so particular about the style of the house. Before, it was rather outdated and now, it was fully outfitted with modern appliances, freshly painted walls, and even the old,
rattley windows had been replaced.
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âClint âI turned around, but he was gone. I was alone now in this house, but I
didnât mind.
As I slowly walked in, still in shock, I ran my hands along the wooden table in the
dining room. I peered into the old living room to see that it was outfitted with all
new furniture, although my auntâs old rocking chair still sat in the corner.
Just seeing it brought more tears to my eyes as I imagined her still sitting there,
her knitting needles clicking together furiously as she listened to the radio. The
radio was still there, too.
I headed upstairs next. The stairs still creaked as I walked up them, but it was like.
music to my ears. I trailed my fingers along the wall as I slowly walked down the
hallway, and finally stopped in front of my auntâs old bedroom.
The light was left on; maybe Clint was cleaning and forgot to turn it off. The door
was closed, but I could see the light spilling out from underneath the door. I couldnât
bring myself to open it â I couldnât bring myself just yet to look into the room where
my aunt used to sleep, and where she died. Not yet.
I headed to the guest bedroom next, where the bed was freshly made with crisp. white sheets and one of my auntâs handmade quilts. The room was much more airy
now, with light white curtains in the windows and lace throw pillows on the bed. It
was a far cry from the way that my aunt used to keep it decorated, but I liked it.
As I threw myself down on the bed, I let out a loud, bittersweet sigh. I wished that I
could have talked to my aunt one last time⦠But the fact that she left her villa to me
filled my heart with warmth.
After all these years, I was just excited to start over fresh within the walls of my
auntâs villa that looked over the sea.
The morning sun was shining through my window when I woke up the next
morning. But honestly, I could have slept longer if it werenât for the fact that I could
hear voices coming from downstairs.
Did someone break in while I was sleeping? I quickly sat up, furrowing my brow as
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I tried to remember if I had locked the doors before I went to bed, but I knew that I did it. I was always so careful with those sorts of things.
Maybe it was Clint or someone else, but either way, I grabbed my small folding knife out of my bag and sl*pped it into the sleeve of my sweatshirt before I slowly made my way down the stairs. With each step, the voices became clearer. And none. of them sounded like Clint.
an
âIâm thinking that we should convert
this into a nice set of French doors,â a male voice said. âMy fiancee likes to have her morning tea and do her yoga outside, so I think sheâd like a nice patio area for thatâ¦â
I swallowed, confused. French doors? Fiancee? What were they talking about? This was my house now- surely they had the wrong house.
Suddenly, as I was slowly making my way down the stairs, my sock sl*pped on the wood and I found myself tumbling down the last few steps. I fell to the floor with a bang and a groan, and my pocket knife fell out of my sleeve and slid across the floor,
right toward the location of the voices.
There was a brief silence, followed by the same male voice.
âWhoâs there? Stay where you are!â the voice said. I scrambled to my feet, cursing under my breath, as I heard hurried footsteps approaching.
Suddenly, I came face to face with my childhood friend, Nathan- the new Alpha of
my pack.
He was much older now, more handsome and no longer the awkward teenage boy
that I remembered. As he looked at me, his square jaw and Cupidâs bow l*ps were lit
from one side by the morning sun shining in through the window, and I couldnât
deny the fact that my heart melted a little just looking at him.
His eyes widened as he saw me. Slowly, and without a word, he took three steps.
toward me. The smell of grapefruit salt on his skin floated across the air toward me,
further bombarding my senses.
There was a flash of bewilderment in my childhood friendâs eyes, followed by what
looked like surprise. But there was something else there, too. Was it a hint of irony
that I saw in my childhood friendâs eyes?
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Why was Nathan in my villa?
There was something strange about my childhood friendâs demeanor as he stared
at me. I could feel it.
âOlivia?â Nathan asked, taking another step forward. The smell of grapefruit salt on his skin became even stronger now that he stood closer to me. âWhy are you here?â
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