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“Invisible fence.” He must see I have no clue what he means, so he elaborates. “It detects when you step outside of assigned borders and stops you.”
The hell? “Like a Taser?”
He takes out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his back pocket. “No. It doesn’t hurt. Just a little reminder not to go where one is not supposed to.”
This is a rather elusive explanation because, why does he need something like this inside his territory? Who needs a reminder to watch it anyway? His staff?
I don’t have a chance to elaborate on the topic as the car finally stops in front of the house, and the door opens right away. I see an elderly man wearing a butler’s uniform, bowing at me and stretching his lips in a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He must be either in his late sixties or early seventies. “Hello, Mrs. Reed. It’s nice to meet you.” He places fluffy white slippers on the ground and extends his hand to me. “Let me help you.”
I feel uncomfortable that he goes through all this trouble for me at his age, so I grab his hand and swing my legs to the side, groaning in pleasure when the slippers swallow my feet. After running barefoot, this is heaven. “Thank you so much,” I tell him as I get out of the car and stand straight.
“Of course.” He studies me for several beats, and for a second, I think I catch joy on his face, but it must be a figment of my imagination. “I prepared tea and brought some food inside.”
Octavius comes to me, already putting a cigarette in his mouth ready to light it up, but I snatch it away and give it to the shocked butler. “Throw it away, please.”
He glances at Octavius and exhales in relief at his nod. “Antonio, make sure the staff knows about the wedding. Also call Todd. Tell him to prepare all the credit cards and passes so my wife has access to everything we own.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good night.”
Antonio gets in the car after being dismissed, and he drives off with Eric, finally snapping me out of my shock. “What are you doing?”
He rolls his eyes and goes toward the entrance of his house while I grab my heavy skirt and follow him. “Your questions are starting to bore me.”
And just like that, the anger comes rushing back. “Well, excuse me if I haven’t prepared better questions for tonight. The wedding was not on my agenda.”
“Pity. You should always be prepared.”
“Maybe in your world, one should always be prepared for such stuff. Most of us lead a normal and ordinary life.”
“Just a reminder, kitten. You’re part of this world now, so I’d lose the judgment if I were you.”
He reaches the door and punches in the code, glancing at me over his shoulder. “The code is one, two, three, four.” A loud click echoes, and the door opens. He steps inside, and I trail once again after him. “We can’t have you not being able to access your new home.”
“That’s an awful code. So easy for anyone to guess.” I huff because this skirt will be the death of me. I never understood ball gown designs, but here we are. “Why did you tell him to call Todd? I don’t need credit cards and passes.”
“Because you’re my wife.”
I wish he’d stop calling me that because it makes me feel all kinds of way, and none of them are healthy but rather tempting and disturbing in their nature.
He claps twice, turning the lights on around us, and my eyes widen.
It’s a spacious living room consisting of one leather couch, one chair, and a small table in front that has several books on it and a stack of cigarette packs.
Black and gray dominate the color scheme, dumping you deeper into this sense of doom around here, and the oil paintings hanging on the wall only add to your discomfort. I come closer to them and realize they must be some scenes from well-known myths, judging by the garish images that make my stomach uneasy.
Shaking my head, I shift my attention to the bar located in the left corner, spotting various bottles and ice along with a running fridge humming in the otherwise silent space.
There are bookcases too, and most of the books revolve around history. The nerd in me who loves reading about the past as it gives some insights into the present jumps up in curiosity. Does he enjoy reading about it, too?
And then my eyes land on the glass shelves with a knife collection, the blades so sharp and clear you probably can see your reflection in them as it slices you open.
I assume one more door leads to his room and the bathroom.
And while his space is rather…empty, it’s still so much like him.
Aloof, sophisticated, deadly, and closed off.
