Page 84 of Awakening the Beast
“Do you have vodka?”
She pauses, her hand still on the cabinet door, and turns her head slightly. “I might have some downstairs.”
I offer a small, purposeful smile. “Great.” I say, giving her no choice but to leave the room.
I watch her every move as she leaves the office, and I quickly get to my feet. I tiptoe to the door, peering around the threshold with one eye, observing her slow strides until she's out of sight. Then, I spring into action.
I head over to the massive cabinets that line the walls, filled with ornaments and old books. I search carefully, lifting books one by one until I find one that looks unusual—bold with black and silver. Something shifts in my gut and on instinct, I pull it out. I flip through the pages until a key falls to the wooden floor at my feet with a metallic clink. I furrow my brows as I lean down, picking up the small, silver key, and inspect it closely.
Why would a key be hidden in a book?
The sound of her heels clicking on the marble makes my heart race and I shove the book back into place while quickly stuffing the key into my pocket.
As her footsteps grow closer, I take a step back and pretend to examine the books, my pulse pounding in my chest. She re-enters the room, carrying a glass of vodka over ice and I force myself to maintain a calm demeanor.
“You like to read?” I ask, not meeting her gaze.
She stands beside me, glancing at the books. “Not really. They're more for show.”
I nod, taking the glass from her and sipping the vodka. “This is good. Thank you.”
I return to my seat, relieved that she seems unaware of my antics. We continue our uneasy conversation, neither of us getting any closer to resolving the conflict that hangs between us as usual until I feel it's time to leave.
When I finally leave Carmella’s mansion, the weight of the day weighs heavily on me. The unsettling conversations with Savannah, her cryptic final words, and Carmella’s strange demeanor have left me feeling drained. It’s clear that the world I’m living in is rife with lies, but these people are masters at hiding the truth.
I head straight to my mom's house, eager to collect Lumi and enjoy some much-needed cuddles. I knock on the door, and my mom opens it almost immediately, a wide smile on her face. She gestures for me to come inside, then we move toward the bright, luxurious living room. My eyes immediately find Lumi, peacefully asleep in her baby chair.
“How was she?” I ask softly, my gaze fixed on my daughter’s peaceful face.
“Oh, she’s such an angel,” my mom replies with a smile. “She’s growing so fast and is trying to communicate a lot now!”
I chuckle, unable to help it. “That’s true. She’s a little chatterbox.”
With my hand still in my pocket, I feel the key and pull it out, holding it in my open palm. My mom’s curiosity rises as she looks down at it.
“What’s that for?” she asks.
“I found it hidden in a book in Carmella’s office,” I explain, meeting her gaze. “I can’t exactly ask Arlo about it. Can you find out what it unlocks?”
My mom’s eyes shift from the key to me, her expression serious. She takes a deep breath and then carefully lifts the key from my hand.
“I’ll see what I can do,” she promises, tucking the key away.
Grateful, I give her a nod, knowing that with her help, I might uncover something crucial.
It’s been a few of days since everything happened with Savannah, and tonight is reserved only for Arlo and me. It’s date night, and the excitement of spending some quality, uninterrupted time with him feels like a breath of fresh air during the recent stress. He has been working very late recently, then leaving early in the mornings. It’s as if I’ve hardly seen him at all.
The driver pulls up to a lavished spot in the heart of New York City, and as the car comes to a stop, the door opens. I step out onto the pavement, my black, tall red-bottom heels clicking against the ground. My tight, black mini dress clings to my curves, and I adjust it with a quick, discreet tug down my thighs.
I make my way towards the entrance, the streetlights casting a soft glow on the polished pavement. My fingers, freshly styled, ruffle through my curly hair, letting it cascade down my back in playful waves. I tuck my clutch bag securely under my arm, ensuring everything is perfectly in place.
The doorman greets me with a warm smile as I enter the opulent restaurant. The interior is a work of elegance—gleaming chandeliers, rich, velvet drapes, and a hint of soft jazz in the air. My eyes scan the huge room, spotting Arlo at a corner table, tucked away from everyone. He’s dressed in a sharp suit, his presence sending a thrill through me.
I make my way over to him, my heels making a soft, confident patter on the marble floor. As I approach, he senses me, his gaze flicking to mine, and he rises from his seat.
His enigmatic eyes rake over my body, a dark intensity developing in them, clearly captivated by the sight of me. As I draw closer, his arm wraps around my lower back with a possessive yank, flushing me close to his body. His gaze, however, lingers unapologetically on my tits, a smouldering heat in his eyes.
“Fuck, you look beautiful. You dressed so pretty for me,” he breathes out before his eyes lock onto mine.
