by Renee Rose
Bentley owns a mansion. A fucking mansion. My mouth is open wide enough for a sparrow to fly inside as I stare at the towering building off in the distance. Even in the dark, I can see the looming, white marble building.
“Are you sure you don’t have a hidden family somewhere that I don’t know about?” I tease him. Why does a single man need a house this big? Hell, why does any human need a house this big? Emotion flashes in his eyes. Sorrow? Sadness? It sends a chill down my spine. As quick as it appeared, it disappears, and his smile is back.
“I like the privacy.” He shrugs. “I have more money than I will ever need, I might as well spend it on things that make me happy.”
“Giant fortresses hidden behind eight-foot-tall, steel gates make you happy? Got it.” I am only partially teasing this time, the unease growing in my gut. I’ve been dating Bentley for over a year and yet… there is a sudden feeling that the man I thought I knew, I might not know at all. The tingly feeling that tells me he is hiding something is back.
The road to the house is longer than it appeared, and lined with perfectly groomed bushes. We’re circling the front of the house when two men, dressed in all black and wearing earpieces, appear.
“Good evening, sir.” One opens Bentley’s car door. “I trust your travel went well?”
“It did.” Bentley nods to the man. Who is he? What is going on? My door is opened by the other man. He reaches out his hand to help me exit the car. As I step out, I am hit by the warm Arizona night air. Warm, but comfortable, not too hot, the perfect temperature.
“Ma’am.” The large man standing in front of me nods again, shutting the door behind me. Bentley is beside me in a flash. I must have been staring at the other man longer than I had thought, or else I’m imagining things.
“What? How?” I look at Bentley, a million questions coursing through my mind. “Who?” I looked pointedly at the two armed men standing between him and me.
“I will answer all of your questions soon enough, Butterfly,” Bentley soothes. “You knew I am in the jewelry business. With that amount of money comes vast responsibilities. I need security to keep my home and my businesses safe. It is what it is.” He shrugs.
It is what it is? Armed security? At his home? Is he in danger? Do people threaten him? Am I in danger? The feeling of unease grows in me. What is Bentley into? Is he part of some crime family? Some mafiosa? My imagination begins to run wild. What if there is a rival family, and they find out about me and kidnap me to hold me against him, or even kill me to hurt him? What if…
“You are safe, Butterfly. You are and will always be safe with me. These men are here to protect my property and my assets. I keep a rather large jewelry vault here on the premises.”
“I swear, sometimes it feels like you can read my mind.”
The three men chuckle.
“Sir, the time,” the man on the left says, looking pointedly at his watch.
Weird. What is that about? Maybe there are security rounds they do at a certain time, or international clients who have night calls.
“Yes. I am growing quite tired. I do like to stick to my routine.” Does he have a bedtime? I giggle at the thought. He gave me the bedtime, not the other way around.
“No, I don’t have a bedtime. I have a routine.” He stresses the last word and frowns at me, I giggle in reply.
Wait.
What?
How did he? The uncanny way he knew what I was thinking before we left for the trip was funny, now… now it seems to be happening more and more. What the hell is going on?
“Let’s get inside and get settled.” He puts an arm around my waist and leads me inside.
The inside of the mansion is just as awe-inspiring as the outside. “I had it custom built,” Bentley explains. “I wanted it to mimic the natural beauty of the surrounding areas.”
“It is…” I can’t find the words as I stand in the dramatic great room. The twenty-five-foot ceiling, grand fireplace, and wall of windows overlooking the valley on one side and mountain ranges on the other, take my breath away. Every detail has been planned out: the mesquite floors, natural stone, and marble showcase how precise details and meticulous craftsmanship were carefully executed.
“Home,” Bentley finishes my sentence. “It is home.”
“A rather large home,” I declare.
“Nine thousand square feet, and forty-nine acres. I bought the property between the two canyons. The seasonal springs and natural pools make for a beautiful backdrop.”
“Nine thousand?” I sputter. “Nine thousand square feet?”
“I might have gotten a little carried away.” He smiles charmingly at me.
“That is a lot of cleaning.”
“I suppose so.” He shrugs. “I didn’t think about the cleaning.”
“I bet the view of the sunrise over here,” I turn to where the sky has started to lighten, just slightly, “and the sunset over the mountains right there, are just beautiful.” Literally as the words came out of my mouth, the windows start to darken. What in the world?
“I like privacy.”
“You can’t get much more private than a long winding road to your house, a huge gate, and armed guards…”
“I’m growing tired, Keri. It has been a long drive. I need to rest. I will have Robbie take you to your room. I want you to try and sleep. All of our activities will be at night this week, we will sleep during the day.”
He sounds exhausted, almost weak. I turn to look at him. He is fading before my eyes. Of course. He has worked all night, and then travelled across thousands of miles. He has to be tired. Did he say my own room? I won’t be sleeping with him? When will we take that next step, sleeping an entire night together? There is always some sort of excuse. Mostly, it is his weird late-night work schedules.
“I won’t be sleeping with you?” There is a little girl pout in my voice.
“Yes, we will. Tonight, love. We will talk and I will show you my room, give you a tour of my home. Right now, I need to sleep.” He nods to the armed man who has followed us into the house—that must be Robbie—dismissing me.
Robbie takes my arm. “Come with me.”
I turn to say goodnight to Bentley but he is already gone. It is as if he simply disappeared into thin air. What the actual fuck is going on?
“Is there anything I can get for you? I’ve left several bottles of water in a chiller bucket on the table next to your bed. Your bags have already been brought up, but Bentley has seen to all your comforts. Please make use of anything in the room and accompanying bathroom suite.” Robbie holds the door to the bedroom open.
“Thank you.”
“One more thing. There is a call button on the wall. If you need anything, anything at all, use that button. Please do not wander around the house or the grounds alone. There are certain areas that are off limits due to the nature of his business dealings. One of us will gladly accompany you until Bentley has given you the formal tour. Okay?”
“Yes. That makes sense, I guess.” A call button? Private areas? Maybe he truly is in the mob.
Turning, Robbie leaves and I enter the room, closing the door behind me. I am finally alone with my thoughts. I look around. The bedroom is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. It is beyond luxury. A large king bed is against one wall, facing a marble fireplace. Four floor-to-ceiling windows alcove a beautiful window seat. Pulling back the curtains, I expect to see another beautiful view of the land outside. I am surprised instead to see the hard rocks of the canyons. I had hoped to catch the rising sun, but this house is beyond unique: the bedrooms are all downstairs, below ground. It is almost as if the house was built to keep every ray of sunlight out. My imagination is really running away with me, it must be the exhaustion.
My bag is on the bed. I grab a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top to change into and head through the door into the private bathroom.
Holy hell.
It is my dream bathroom—the one I had pinned on my Pinterest board
and had painstakingly chosen every detail of. The huge soaking tub, the large wall mounted rosewood vanity with the white marble sink and lighted mirror, the separate luxury rainfall ceiling shower. It is all there, right down to the towels and my favorite scented soaking salts. The vase full of sunflowers and red roses, my favorite combination of flowers, sits on the separate vanity, and that table with the fabric seat, the combination I had pieced together with four separate pictures, is the final detail. I hold on to the doorframe to keep from falling.
The cost of this bathroom alone is half of what my house is worth. It is the grandest gesture I’ve ever had made for me. But, is it too much? Am I even worth it? I quickly change clothes and go back into the bedroom, shutting the door behind me. My heart is pounding so fast and hard in my chest, I feel like I am having a panic attack. I am beginning to feel more and more like my gut is right, and I need to be listening to it.
Bentley is hiding something. But, what?
I am a lot more refreshed after waking from my slumber. I pushed the envelope yesterday, barely getting down to my crypt before the sun rose. Coming up the stairs to the main floor of the house, I am hit by the delicious smell of dinner. The chef has worked his magic, I can taste the Italian feast already. The strong smell of garlic, basil, and onion has my mouth watering. I had requested the chef prepare Keri’s favorites.
Keri comes down the stairs a few minutes later, wearing the pale green dress I laid out for her. When our eyes meet, I notice the anger flashing in hers.
Uh oh.
“Something smells delicious,” Erik says, strolling into the room behind her.
“Erik.” I nod hello to my brother, walking slowly to stand by Keri’s side. Slowly. One step at a time, left foot in front of the right. I have to keep myself from blurring over to her, while signaling to Erik that she doesn’t know yet. He nods his understanding.
“Hello, Keri. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Erik holds his hand out to her. She takes it and politely shakes it in return. Good girl.
“I bet you are famished.” I nudge her forward and towards the formal dining room. It is a room I am proud of. I’ve it set up to either host a large gathering, or a smaller intimate one. The staff can put leaves in or take them out of the beautiful, antique tables. Tonight, we have one table set up in the middle of the room, set for six.
“I am hungry. I’ve been up for a while. I looked around a little bit while you slept. You know, your goons are very picky about where I go without you,” Keri says.
There is a bite in her voice, an edge.
“Goons? My security are friends of mine, and hopefully will become your friends, too. They are hardly goons. But yes, there are certain parts of the property I want to show you myself, and other sections that are used for business purposes only. Why don’t we discuss this over dinner?”
She understands that this is not a suggestion and I lead her, my hand on the small of her back, into the dining room. I exchange knowing looks with Erik. I have to tell her, it can’t wait any longer. Tonight, after dinner. We’ll go for a walk in my back gardens, and I will tell her.
She is quiet during the first part of dinner. Erik tries to entertain her with stories, she just responds politely. I listen in to her thoughts; she is trying to compartmentalize everything she has seen over the past day. Mafia? She thinks I am in the mafia? I have to stifle a laugh at that.
“You have three orders for the Venetian Ball, Bentley. One is looking specifically for one that is ruby and diamond studded.”
“I have the perfect one. It has a silver band and is studded with rubies, with teardrop rubies hanging down in intervals around it. It’s worth a pretty penny, though. Do you trust him?”
“It’s for Damiano.”
“That surprises me. I guess old dogs can learn new tricks. I’m happy for him. I’ll get the ruby one out of the vault later. Do you know the other preferences?”
“Is this for real?” The question from Keri is so quiet, I almost didn’t hear it. “Are you two really talking about millions of dollars’ worth of jewelry like I talk about checking out library books?”
“It’s just gems,” Erik says, looking between us. He is like me, money is a means to an end. The earth is full of gems and diamonds. It makes more every day.
“Just gems? Millions of dollars of jewelry is just gems?” Her volume rises in pitch.
“Calm down, Butterfly.” I take a deep breath and use my best dom voice.
“She hasn’t seen the vault, has she?” Erik asks.
“No, we just got in this morning. Then, I slept.”
“Ah. That makes sense.”
“No, I haven’t seen the vault. But I did see the fucking bathroom. The what, thirty-thousand-dollar bathroom?”
“Butterfly.” The warning is clear in my tone, she knows better than to curse at me like that. I don’t care how mad she is at me. I allow anger, communication, and expression as long as it is done with respect.
“Don’t.” She holds her hand up to me. “Don’t warn me. Don’t scold me. I’m not your submissive in this moment, I’m calling my fucking safeword loud and clear until I get some answers. Capisce? Is that a word that you understand better?”
“She thinks I am in the mafia,” I explain to Erik.
“The mafia? Those pussies?” Erik sputters laughing. I can’t help myself; I laugh, too. Humans and their crime families. Crime families are like yapping small dogs compared to what goes on in our world.
“You think the Mafiosi are pussies?” She’s the one sputtering now. “What kind of crime family are you involved in then?”
“We aren’t involved in any crime. While Erik is the closest thing I have to family left alive, neither of us are part of anything organized.”
“This isn’t funny, Bentley. The plane we came here in, you didn’t charter it, did you?”
“No love, that is my private jet.”
I never told her that I had chartered it. I should have corrected that thought when it entered her mind, but I’ve tried to be careful with giving away too many clues about how much of her mind I’ve read over the past year. A few tidbits here and there make her feel like I know her really well, can read her, and made her feel more secure about our relationship. Too many coincidences would make her suspicious and wig her out.
“This is just too much. You are what, a millionaire?” She is raging mad. Her hurt is radiating from her, I can feel it. I can’t blame her, those feelings are valid. I haven’t been completely honest with her. I mean, it’s not like I just meet a girl and say, “Hi, I’m Bentley, I like long walks on the beach and sucking your blood under the moonlight.”
“I have an endless supply of money. I stopped counting years ago.”
“That…” She struggles to find the words.
“I know.” It is unimaginable to a human. Money is finite. Unlimited financial resources is not something they can fathom. There is a lot about this situation that is going to be hard for her to understand. The least of my concern is the money aspect.
“How many lies are there? What more aren’t you telling me? We’ve been together for a year and I feel like I’ve been living a lie. I feel like I don’t know you at all.”
Fuck.
This is not how I want to tell her.
“I think it is best if I just book a flight home,” Keri continues, my silence being taken as an admission of guilt. “Obviously you have been lying to me, and our type of relationship can’t last on lies. I thought I knew you, Bentley. I thought this time was different…”
God, the pain in her voice is breaking me.
“I thought we had something special. I was wrong.”
“No, you aren’t wrong. What we have is something special, something really special.”
“You’ve been lying to me. Even if they are lies of omission, they are still lies. If I can’t trust you, I can’t submit to you.”
“I need you to listen to me now, Butterfly. What I am going to tell you is not goin
g to be easy for you to hear,” I begin.
Erik blurs from the room. He knows we need to be alone for this. Keri is focused on me, she doesn’t notice his departure.
I can feel her heart racing, hear it. She is afraid. This is not how this was supposed to go. Damnit, girl. This is hard enough.
“I am going to explain everything. I just need your trust for a few more minutes. Please, listen until I’m done talking, and then I’ll answer any questions you have, okay, Butterfly? Can you do that for me?”
“Yes, Sir.”
She slips back into my submissive girl. “Good girl,” I praise her. I need her to calm down, to hear what I’m going to say. I walk over to her chair, pull it back, and then kneel before her. Taking her hands in mine, I start what will surely be one of the hardest conversations we will ever have. I make sure to look her in the eyes before I speak the next words.
“I am a vampire.” I pause, watching her face. She holds it still, emotionless. Her training as an investigative journalist has surely kicked in. All that time having verbal bombs dropped on her and being forced to remain professional is helping camouflage her reaction. I hate it. I want an authentic reaction out of her. Since I am not getting it from her facial expression, I turn to her thoughts.
Vampires do not exist.
“Yes, vampires do exist. The reason I am only out at night and go to sleep at dawn isn’t because of work, but because the sun’s rays kill us. I need to rest, to recharge, during the day. That is the real reason you can’t ever get hold of me during daylight hours. Not because I am working or on international calls.” I pause again to study her.
Her face has gone white, all color drained from it. Closing my eyes, I lean forward, listening intently to her thoughts.
Is this a joke? Why is he telling me all of this? Is it a prank? Is he trying to push me away? Is it some Halloween thing? Has he lost his mind? He seems to really believe what he is saying. Vampires. Do. Not. Exist. Her thoughts are running a mile a minute, chaotically taking multiple paths at a time. I would laugh, if the situation wasn’t as serious as it is.
