The Billionaire's Fragile Bride

15. THIS IS MY HOUSE

Callan was the first to step out of the car, followed by David. Orla remained inside, taking in the beauty of the enormous building standing in front of her.

She conceded to the fact Callan was rich and she shouldn't expect less, but not this mighty. She was the daughter of a billionaire, her father was rich too but she had never seen an eight thousand square feet mansion looking so exquisite before.

All her life, she had been confined to her room and not allowed to leave the house unless she had to go to college and her father's chauffeur always made sure he took her to school and back home every day.

She had zero time to socialise the way her sisters did. She had always been the unseen daughter, the one her father didn't want the world to know about. She was the forsaken daughter.

She lacked a social life, just the internet kept her sane sometimes, but even that wasn't like real life.

"Welcome back home, Boss." David tendered the car keys to Callan when he had parked it in the garage, creating a space for it amongst the other six cars parked in there.

Orla explored the house with Betty in her hands. She was giggling, whispering unclear words to her as she walked through the surroundings. When Callan had gone inside, David signalled to her to follow suit.

She nodded her head, took one more glance at the glassy tall windows before she hurried after him, making a mental note to tour the manor later. There was a lot she was yet to see, and curiosity was killing her.

He swiftly passed the foyer, sliding into the living room. Orla grabbed the door before it shut. She walked in, eyes on the tall coved ceilings.

The crystal chandeliers attached to the ceilings beamed with a very bright light that caused Betty to jump. She figured they were in a different environment and she seemed excited about it.

They went further into the living room, her eyes scouring and taking note of everything that was in there.

Different designs of couches and divans were arranged on various parts of the living room, a glass coffee table with flowers atop was placed in the center. That wasn't new to her, she had seen it before. But the paintings on the wall swept her off her feet, from the smallest ones to the baroque paintings, she loved them all.

Without being told, she concluded Callan had a thing for paintings. She did too, but never got the chance to explore like she wished to.

"This is my house," he said wryly.

"You have a beautiful one here." She smiled, her eyes still flickering around the vast living room, carefully scrutinising everything that was in there.

Aside from the paintings, the media shelf that was crammed with a lot of books and a floating TV in between also gripped her interest. Everything about the house was perfect, she loved it.

"This painting is nice," she said, gesturing to a large frame of abstract faces painting. When Callan didn't give a response, she smiled to conceal the embarrassment. "Now, you don't roam around the house, okay?" She carefully dropped Betty on the tiles and straightened up to look back at Callan whose eyes were glued to his phone.

She knew something was wrong but she didn't know how to ask him what it was. They weren't close and even if she tried, she was certain Callan would never tell her anything. He didn't regard her as his wife.

"Come with me," he shoved his phone into his pocket, sauntering towards a small door. He clicked the buttons and the door opened up to an elevator. "You can use the stairs if you don't want to get in now." Callan said, but she hurried into the elevator before it shut close.