Tasting Insanity

Chapter 18

We passed several buildings, high buildings. We were already out of my area in a matter of fifteen minutes. My father was still tied and passed out in the seat behind me with John watching over him. Spencer thought I should sit in the front seat so that he could keep an eye on me as if I would try to jump out of a moving car.

The car came to an abrupt stop and we found ourselves in front of a huge gate. Spencer rolled down his window, swiping his card to a sort of machine and the gate opened, allowing him to enter and closed the second he drove inside. That was some rich people shit, I thought. Who the hell were these people? The thought of them being rapists, pedophiles, involved in child trafficking and similar stuff were enough to freak me out.

The house- the mansion in front of us was huge, bigger than those buildings we passed. As I approached the opulent mansion, my eyes were immediately drawn to its grandeur and elegance. Standing tall amidst meticulously landscaped gardens, the mansion exuded an air of luxury and sophistication that was hard to ignore.

The front of the mansion boasted a magnificent entrance, with double doors made of rich mahogany that stood as a testament to the exquisite craftsmanship that lied within. The doors were adorned with intricate carvings, depicting scenes from classical mythology, and were flanked by towering columns that added a touch of grandiosity to the facade.

A sweeping driveway, made of smooth black asphalt, lead me towards the mansion's entrance. Tall palm trees lined the path, their fronds swaying gracefully in the gentle breeze. The driveway culminated in a circular courtyard, where an ornate fountain danced with crystal-clear water, creating a soothing melody that permeated the air.

To the left of the mansion, an expansive pool glistened under the warm sunlight. The pool was a masterpiece of design, with shimmering turquoise water that stretched out in a seemingly endless expanse. Surrounding the pool was a mosaic-tiled deck, adorned with plush lounge chairs and umbrellas, creating the perfect oasis for relaxation and indulgence.

Stepping inside the mansion, I was immediately enveloped by an atmosphere of refined luxury. The foyer, with its high ceiling and elegant chandelier, welcomed me with a warm glow. The floor beneath my feet was a work of art, crafted from sleek black and gold marbles arranged in a captivating pattern that catches the eye.

As I moved further into the mansion, I encountered a series of spacious rooms, each more lavish than the last. The walls were adorned with exquisite artwork and tapestries, showcasing the owner's impeccable taste and appreciation for beauty. Sunlight streamed through large, ornate windows, casting a golden glow that bathed the rooms in warmth and splendor.

In the living room, plush velvet sofas in deep hues of burgundy and gold beckoned me to sink into their softness. A grand fireplace, made of intricately carved marble, stood as a focal point, radiating both warmth and elegance. The room was repleted with antique furniture, meticulously arranged to create an atmosphere of timeless sophistication.

The dining room was a sight to behold. A long, polished mahogany table, adorned with delicate china and gleaming silverware, took center stage. Above it, a dazzling chandelier hung, casting a soft, romantic glow that sets the stage for unforgettable dining experiences. The room was complete with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered breathtaking views of the surrounding gardens.

Every inch of the mansion exuded opulence, from the intricate details in the architecture to the tasteful embellishments that adorned each room. The synthesis of black and gold marbles throughout the mansion added a touch of regality and sophistication, elevating the luxurious ambiance to new heights.

"Beautiful, isn't it?", John spoke beside me, startling me. I hadn't notice his presence because I was too busy admiring this place. "My boss has a thing for beautiful things." His eyes roamed around my body, up and down before he spoke again. "Come on. He don't like to be kept waiting."

We walked further inside, passing the artworks on the wall and soon found ourselves standing in front of a double door. Spencer knocked on the door, receiving a 'Come in' in response before he opened the door, revealing an office.

As I stepped into the luxurious office room, I was struck by the air of grandeur that surrounded it. The room was adorned with rich, dark wood paneling, giving it a timeless and distinguished ambiance. Soft, ambient lighting casted a warm glow, illuminating the space with an aura of sophistication.

In the center of the room, a large mahogany desk commanded attention. The desk was meticulously organized, with leather-bound books neatly arranged, and a sleek, state-of-the-art laptop positioned prominently in front of an intricately carved chair. The chair itself was a masterpiece, upholstered in plush, deep burgundy leather, and adorned with elegant brass accents.

My eyes fell on the man behind the desk. His weathered face etched with lines that spoke of wisdom and experience. His silver hair was neatly combed, contrasting beautifully against his perfectly tailored charcoal gray suit. Despite never having seen him before, there was a sense of familiarity that enveloped him, as if his presence carried the weight of a thousand stories.

The old man's gaze was fixed intently on the laptop screen in front of him, his fingers danced across the keyboard with remarkable agility. Each keystroke was deliberate and precise, a testament to his years of expertise. His eyes, behind a pair of sleek, gold-rimmed spectacles, flickered with a combination of determination and focused concentration.

As I studied his features, I noticed a striking resemblance to someone I have encountered before, though I couldn't quite put my finger on who it might be. I frowned, trying to remember where I had seen him before but failed miserably.

The room itself seemed to vibrate with an energy that was both inspiring and enigmatic. The walls adorned with impressive artwork, a curated collection of masterpieces that reflected a refined taste and a deep appreciation for beauty. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with volumes that span a wide range of subjects, hinting at the old man's insatiable thirst for knowledge.

I couldn't help but feel a sense of reverence in the presence of this enigmatic figure. There was a palpable aura of wisdom and accomplishment that emanated from him. It was as if his very presence embodies a lifetime of experiences and achievements, leaving an indelible mark on those who have the privilege to be in his midst.

He lifted upward, away from his laptop as he took in the people in front of him. His gaze was fixed on me, roaming around my body before he directed it to my father who was still tied, in John's grip. A smirk slowly made its way onto his face, his hand reached forward and closed his laptop before crossing his arms together. "I have been expecting you." He gestured to the two chairs sitting in front of him, urging me and my father to take a seat. My father stepped forward, about to take a seat when he stopped him. "Ah, not you. Only Miss Banks."

I gulped, fidgeting with the sleeve of my sweater as I reluctantly took a seat in front of the man. "What do you want from me?"

He raised an eyebrow at my question, smiling. "You don't want to know who I am?" Not receiving an answer from me, he continued. "My name is Christian Hale."

My eyes widened at his confession. Hale. As in Carter Hale. Realization slowly but surely hit me. The man who sat in front of me was no other than Carter Hale's father. The man who sent him to prison, framed him for murder and I was sitting in front of him, in his house.