Avery was the embodiment of rage when he stormed into the Ford Mansion, he had not been joking when he said he was going to kill Callan Ford.
The Ford Mansion looked like a shadow of what he once knew, there were barley any servants, the garage looked desolate and the house seemed to be entrapped on a permanent haze of gloom.
He stormed into the living room, coming face to face with an elegnatly seated Isabella who was drinking from a cup of tea — who drank steaming tea in the afternoon? Avery didn't know either, but apparently Isabella did.
If Isabella was surprised by his appearance she didn't show it, one brow raised in an elegant arch, she smiled softly— motherly and warm. "Avery, it's been a long time," she said gently, "I was begining to think you forgot this family now that you've found a new one." Though her words were phrased like an accusation, her tone held no accusation though, her tone teasing and light.
