The Kings' and Monroes' lost their everything in a span of one night. Their parents were killed leaving the King's little brother and the Monroe's little princes to be taken under the cover of the dark.
Years later the two powerful families have joi...
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There's an ancient story about a man, richer than life itself. Everything he touched turned into a block of thick shining gold.
Many envied him because of this. The poor would stare furiously because he would never share his wealth even though he had an endless supply.
But the man that turned everything to gold and fortune died starving, lonely and poor. He turned his loved ones into a slab of money and the same with his food, his house and his life.
Nobody took pity on him after all money gave you everything right.
That's what I used to believe about rich people. I used to think they were selfish, greedy and lonely. That they only focused on their money which never gave them time for family not even breathing.
Now I know I was wrong. So greatly wrong. I stared up at the mansion, at least four story's tall, with big windows and expensive stone. It's the type of house I used dream about back at the orphanage.
But that house had nothing inside because I couldn't phantom a house like this having a family like mine.
Maybe I'm lucky. Maybe I hit jackpot or maybe I turned everything into a different type of gold.
Either way I'm pretty dang happy about it.
The fresh smell of bouquet travels through the wind and the souls of the violins from the orchestra strum. People dressed in black tie parade around my house like it's there's claiming to be my cousins, sisters uncles, nephew. I've gotten to the point where I've stopped asking what relation they are to me.
It's too confusing and the large headache keeps increasing. Planning this wedding has been a hard gesture. It brought tears, blood and nausea but I promised Carter and Luca I would plan them a perfect ceremony for their love.
And I did.
You must off though that this was my wedding. Well, it isn't. The big lavish ceremony isn't quite my taste, me and Grey has a small ceremony the day I turned eighteen. Harry being our witness.
We'd been through so much together that we didn't want a dramatic parade. Having each other was just what we needed.
We then returned home to a party with our loved ones and my mother questioned whether I was truly happy. My answer was a big fat yes. She laughed and kissed my cheek with tears in her eyes and that was it.
"Mrs. Monroe-King," a squeaky voice sounded out, rushing towards me with a tray of mini cakes. I smiled calmly not wanting to alert the already overexerted man. "Should I serve the Prosecco or champagne?"
I breathed at that question glad it wasn't something like 'The cake falls over, the whole day is ruined.'
"I think sprite is fine Jeff, this is already a rowdy group." He laughed and nodded, heading back inside less frantic.
