Page 64 of A Girl and HER Prince
Who would build their homes so high and so hard to reach? These weren’t exactly monks. These were billionaires… possibly trillionaires. The closer they came to the elaborate setup, the more intimidated she was. Hopefully, whoever lived there would help them and not cast them out to sea like rejected fish.
The mountain glistened with greenery, made especially vibrant after the storm, though there were areas flattened by the heavy winds. From this height, she could see how the heavy winds had damaged the area. Only a few structures remained on the beach below, standing among the leveled sheds and boathouses. Venice and Livvy were lucky to have made it to their shelter last night.
Their luck needed to hold out just a little longer, so that this stuttering cable car from the ’70s lasted until they reached the top.
It rolled into its landing place outside of a Utopia. She stared at a courtyard that belonged to that Greek Villa where they’d filmedMomma Mia. The wind battered the cable car at this height. That would mean it was colder here too. “Can we stay inside a little longer?” she asked.
“Think thoughts of hot baths,” he said. “You know in a place like this, they have to have some magnificent ones… the kind you decorate with statues and the mist rises up, and everyone is wearing togas.”
The way he talked, he thought they were entering Croesus’s palace. “You don’t think the storm blew their electricity out?”
He grimaced. “Let’s think happy thoughts of underground lines and generators and gas-powered fireplaces.”
“Okay, okay!” He had her at fireplaces. Wincing at the coming chill, she pushed outside into the walkway and braced against the icy winds rushing to greet them. Strange what the storm had done to their tropical weather from before. How soon until they got it back?
The rocky cobbles were smooth under her feet. That, at least, was a nice change from the shards in the ruins below. On either side of them, she noticed stone statues, fountains, and free standing Greek columns making up intricate gardens overflowing with apple, pear, and pomegranate trees; some of these trees had been upended and torn out of the ground by their roots.
Where were the gardeners? Or the staff? Was anyone here? She cupped her hands over her mouth. “Hello!” she called out.
Venice’s shouts joined with hers. “Is anyone out there? We need some help!”
No answering calls met their pleas. They might as well be strolling through the Greek ruins again. Was this place truly deserted? Her heart began to race. Venice seemed to be okay right now, but it wouldn’t be long before he took a turn for the worse. He needed real medical help. His injuries were beyond her capabilities. She couldn’t do this on her own.
Two dog statues guarded the entrance of another courtyard—they were replicas of the stone dogs at the Greek archway ruins below, only these were painted silver and gold. She assumed they were painted.
They passed under the archway, and she noticed that the piazza ahead of them was surrounded by extravagant homes. The paint was so blindingly white they seemed to glow under the bronze embellishments decorating the roofs and pillars. The magnificence was all enclosed by golden gates.
Livvy felt like Dorothy stepping out of her uprooted home after a tornado and discovering the Emerald City, only this was a scene accommodating the richest political figures from ancient Greece, a dream that came to brutal life when she stumbled across a massive marble statue of Aristotle instructing Alexander the Great. A colossal book of philosophy stretched out across both his arms in a canopy that looked like it would provide generous cover from the rain.
Not all was well in this shining Utopia: the side of one building was completely crushed by a tree. The elegant wreckage seemed almost sacrilege. The red and gold shards of shingles were scattered across the courtyard.
Had these buildings been abandoned because of the coming storm?
In view of the disaster that struck the island, it would’ve been wise, but the residents only had hours to brace for what was about to happen… unless they had a swift sailing fleet, well, more like a jet or—she noticed the landing pad—helicopters. That’s how they’d abandoned the island on a moment’s notice. They’d just flown out… while she and Venice had been fighting for their lives.
That had to mean these billionaires could fly right back. This was a good thing, wasn’t it? They could give Venice an air flight out. She’d hitch a ride with him and let real professionals take care of their problems.
But for now they had to wait… in one of these elegant palaces.Not the worst thing in the world.Her heart raced in excitement at staying in this bucolic villa, especially since there were no powerlines in sight. Venice might be right, and her breath caught when she spied solar panels. Water still trickled through working fountains. That had to mean that the hand of destruction hadn’t ravaged through all their modern conveniences. They might be able to take a shower!
A few Tiki torches were planted deeply into the dirt near an overturned barbecue grill. Garden chairs were scattered across the lawn where a party had been hastily abandoned before the storm… so the occupants weren’t perfectly refined.
Already she liked their absent hosts.
The mansion ahead was a work of art—it reminded her of what she’d find in Vegas; this was the more chic, less kitschy version than the Venetian and Grecian architecture the casinos attempted to duplicate, with white marbled pillars and palatial entryways.
Venice gingerly stepped up the polished staircase near the front walkway. Sure, he wasn’t shy about breaking and entering like Goldilocks into a glitzy home—he was a prince! But there would be no porridge waiting for them here—more like chardonnay.
He pushed at the glass double doors. They held. Not a surprise that someone would lock up their immense riches like this.
Livvy found the doorbell. She shrugged at his raised brow. “Theycouldbe home.”
Glancing over at a golden statue of an elegant young woman, Venice stole her torch and shattered the glass pane above the doorknob.
Her mouth flew open at the blasphemy.
“No one’s home here,” he muttered. “Let’s just hope that set off an alarm somewhere.”
Doubtful. If that was the case, the storm battering in the few broken windows she’d seen around the home would have this whole place ringing, and yet, the world was silent.
