Chapter 12

Andrew’s mansion was welcoming from the open door to the wide hallway. Upon the sides were the paintings of a famous artist; the floor was a modern marble with a blend of deep, homely, light, creamy hues; and a pale gold matches well with the colours in the living room.

“He really knows how to have a good life,” she mumbled.

When Diana reached the ground floor, a butler appeared and spoke in a soft, well-mannered voice. "Good morning, Miss Diana. Your breakfast is ready, ma'am. Follow me." The man with a Mohican cut and scythe-shaped eyebrows gently spoke, his Roman nose and half-dome cheekbones sitting above an oaken jaw with a formal shoulder that was part of his hefty physique. The man turned around and didn't even let her respond, so she followed him instead. Walking, the man continued speaking, “You can call me Butler Raymond or Raymond—anything that suits you, ma’am. If you need anything else, just ring a bell on your side. Next to every naked statue of a woman ado