Page 71 of Awakening the Beast
“Arlo…” I warn quietly, trying to reign him in.
My mom seems to take no offense. “That’s your opinion Arlo and I respect it,” she says. “But it does offer something that you don’t have alongside your power.”
He raises an eyebrow, “Oh yeah and what can could be more important than power to people like us?”
“Freedom,” she retorts while straightening her shoulders.
Arlo freezes and so do I. I hesitantly glance over at him slowly beside me and he is just staring at my mom, lost in thought. The silence becomes uncomfortable.
“You wouldn’t have to worry about all the threats coming to your home, to your family because you won’t even exist, but you can also reap the rewards of the criminal underworld.” My dad says from across the table and Arlo’s dark orbs flash to his.
Arlo cocks his head to the side, narrowing his eyes on my fathers. “No threats coming to your home or family?” he asks. “So, what the fuck has been happening to you two over these past few years?”
His eyes flicker between my parents, but they stay silent because he does have a point.
“Is this more about the fact that you might be exposed as Ghost all the time I am with your daughter? You want me to hide away just save your fucking skin?” he adds.
My mom shakes her head, “No. It was just a suggestion. A lifeline to keep you all safe. The discussion is always open if you ever change your mind, and I am more than happy to help make it happen.”
“You don’t always need power by being the face of everything, Arlo,” my dad declares, his tone sturdy. “Sometimes, the ones who stay in the shadows hold the most power. Anonymity can be your greatest weapon.”
He pauses, his gaze sharpening as he continues. “And as for being in danger or exposed, that’s irrelevant. Hazel has ruled asGhost for many years, and if her identity ever came to light, she’s more than ready to face it head-on. Being a Ghost doesn’t make you weak—it makes you smart and powerful. Smart because all these so-called masterminds take orders from someone, they’ve never even laid eyes on, someone they could never touch. It’s about fear. It’s about influence. And neither of those requires you to be seen.”
I draw my eyes away from my dad and look at Arlo again. His gaze is laser focused on him, his jaw set tight, but he doesn’t respond, he simply moves his eyes to mine. He takes in my features, and I give him a small smile before glancing at my parents.
“That’s not, Arlo.” I say, my tone is distant yet truthful. “But thanks for the offer.”
They both stare at me for a beat before my mom gives a sharp nod, “Of course. As I said, it’s an option if you ever change your mind.”
Suddenly Arlo takes my hand as he stands, and I stand too on instinct. As my mom and dad get up from their chairs as well, Arlo glances down at his Rolex, “I’m going to be late for my next meeting.” He lifts his head, looking at me, “Don’t you have somewhere to be as well?”
I inhale deeply before silently agreeing. As we say our goodbyes to my parents, my mom pulls me into a tight hug.
“Carmella.”She whispers into my ear and my entire body tightens. We part and she keeps her hands on my shoulders, taking in my wide eyes.
“I’ll see you soon, darling. If you need anything, you know where I am.” She smiles softly, keeping up the pretense.
I gulp down the anger swelling in my throat and give a small nod. Arlo takes my shaking hand in his and guides me out of the building. Once we’re outside, he doesn’t release me, he drags me toward his private car and forces me to get inside first.
When I enter, I peer around at the luxurious interior, noticing the screen is up, separating us from the driver. Arlo gets inside, closing the door behind him. As soon as the car starts moving, his dark eyes flash to mine.
“Come the fuck here.” He orders with a head gesture.
I take a deep breath, accepting his hand and climbing onto his lap. As I straddle him frontally, my gaze drops, my thoughts spiraling, Carmella’s name echoing in my mind like a bitter reminder.
The weight of deceit crawls under my burning skin, but I now understand why my mom warned me to keep it to myself. First, I need to observe—watch Carmella more closely than ever before. Once I have all the facts, I’ll take action. But what’s the point of telling Arlo about a mere hunch? He’d just dismiss it. He’s already furious with my parents, and now they’re pointing fingers at his only parent left? I know him too well—he’d see it as nothing but spiteful malice.
I, on the other hand, am not so sure. My mother has made some terrible decisions, I’m well aware of that, but she wouldn’t toss me a crumb unless she had truthful reason to believe Carmella’s involvement in the hit was more than possible.
Since the day I met her, Carmella has given me an uneasy feeling, an undercurrent of something off. Her maternal instincts toward Arlo are basically nonexistent, and she’s been the root of shaping him into the cold, detached man he’s become. Was she pointing the finger at Charles all along while secretly orchestrating Arlo’s downfall? The idea grips me, and suddenly, everything feels darker.
I sense Arlo’s gaze all over my face and body, an intense feeling shivering up my spine at the thought of lying to him. It’s as if he knows already that I am hiding secrets. I shouldn’t be hiding anything from him given how much I pestered him to be truthful with me and he has been. But in my gut, I believe this is for his best interest. I won’t make any bold moves until I’m certain.
“What’s wrong, beautiful?” he murmurs, moving my hair over my shoulders with both his tattooed hands.
“Hm?” I ask, my eyes meeting his.
“I know you, Wren. What’s fucking wrong?”
