The Dark Secret of the CEO by Sofia de Orellana

To my surprise, we leave the house shortly after nightfall, with just a quick goodbye to Cata. Still no sign of Richard, but from Cata and Bart’s actions, it’s apparently normal. For some reason, I’m both nervous and curious to see him again. It’s strange. I feel like he’s a… root for this new life I’ve just taken my first breaths in. I keep looking for him, unconsciously.

For now though, Bart’s my guide. We walk away from the mansion, and I just start to realize how rooted their home is in London. From the outside, it’s like any other house out there. It even looks somewhat better kept than the other houses, the paint seems fresh and there isn’t a leaf left neglected…

“Disappointed?” Scoffs Bart.

“Yeah. I was expecting spiderwebs and bats.”

“We used to have rats,” he chuckles. “But we have a house cleaning service coming in twice a week, and Cata’s a bit of a cleaning freak, if you haven’t noticed.”

I chuckle, and he offers his arm, helping me walk around. One thing I had forgotten is that London is full of old cobblestone streets, a nightmare for heels… Thankfully, my legs feel stronger. Like, really strong. I don’t shake, I don’t waver, and if there’s a hint of unsteadiness, my body adjusts in a millisecond. I feel like one of those models who walk effortlessly on twelve inch heels, when I always felt like a baby deer with the smallest ones. I’ve never felt so… in tune with my body, nor this strong. I don’t feel like I could lift a truck, but I can take long steps without the slightest fear of face-planting despite those high heels, which is definitely a win.

“So,” I ask. “What’s the lesson? I still don’t understand why I’m dressed like I’m about to audition for a gothic adult movie.”

“I’ve seen you with kinkier shit on,” he chuckles, glancing at my legs.

“So you really did see that stupid movie….” I groan.

“I looked you up, Miss Starr. I’m kind of curious though. You had one hell of a career on track, and it suddenly went downhill. I hate the mainstream shit, but you didn’t seem that bad of an actress either.”

“Isn’t it rude to ask about someone’s death or something like that?”

“I’m not asking about your death, baby vamp. I’m asking about why the gossips said you left the public scene for months out of the blue. I looked it up. You were one of the most promising young actresses of your generation, carried by one of the biggest acting agencies, and all of a sudden, things started going to shit. What happened?”

I don’t want to answer. I thought I was getting a clean slate by being transformed, not that I would have to answer questions like it’s a fucking press conference all over again. We walk a bit longer, but Bart’s still waiting, and this is awkward. I sigh.

“Some… things happened. Did you read about the accident?”

“Yeah, and that wasn’t your fault. The guy was literally chasing you and he had a car accident that was bound to happen.”

“It doesn’t change that a man died because I didn’t let him take a photo,” I mutter. “…He had two kids, Bart.”

“Yeah, and you were twenty years old.”

“Alright,” I declare. “But if you ask questions, I get to ask some too.”

“Oh, feel free to,” he shrugs, amused. “I’m an open book, and an incredibly boring one at that. Bartholomew Heartgraves, nice to meet you. Tell me what question tickles your little mind.”

“How old are you?”

“I died at twenty-two. Want to guess what year?”

“Well, I already know you’re a century older than Cata, so that’s a bit scary… Eighteen something?”

“I’m flattered,” he chuckles. “Born and raised in London in sixteen-forty four, I died in sixteen-sixty-six. So, yeah, nothing as grand as an acting career to report. I was an apprentice in a workshop, which honestly tells you all you need to know about my future prospects.”

“How did you…?”

He chuckles.

“…It

there a war or something I’m supposed to know…? Damn, I wish I had a better memory of

Fire of London! Damn, what do

in the US, not England,”

thought you

listened to my conversation with Cata? …Of course you did. I was born here, but my father sent

it…”

said. “When does my lesson

way to change the

know about Bart already, and while I’d love to hear about his three centuries of life, it’s not worth letting him dig any further into

Soho. The mansion must be near Hyde Park, as I suspected. Night fell just a while ago, but we’re in October, so it’s still pretty

it take that

No. But we might as well have fun laying the

set on this bar with the loud music, quite an old but fancy one, with loud punk rock music and all, but there’s a crazy queue… Nevermind

know him?” I ask as we walk

but he’s been charmed enough

a conditioned reflex… Damn, I need to learn

hard to charm

he chuckles, taking me to the bar. “A vampire? You’ll learn to

bit worried about what they could make me do. Not that he’s used it on me at all. Bart’s presence isn’t as imposing as Richard’s. In fact, for someone a century older than Cata, I don’t feel much of a difference… How freaking old and powerful is the Heartgraves

dress is just fine. Bart’s gone from holding my waist to just pulling my hand, and I follow the little path he effortlessly makes amongst the dancers. His bleached hair and smooth criminal look gets him a few glances, and I can’t help but try and keep my head down when those stares get to me. Thankfully, we soon reach

whiskeys on the rocks, the best you got. Keep

to get those for free and just hands him a

and we clink it. He turns around, glancing at the humans moving their bodies around with a smirk, scanning the crowd. I keep my elbows on the bar; I’m still worried about showing my face. I take a sip; oh, it’s sweet… I think I’m

thirst?”

I just empty my whisky, but it does absolutely nothing,

“Still there.”

“I bet Richard would have taken you to hunt himself if

don’t usually get to…

mess a few months ago… I have to drink that bottled crap until Richard lets me hunt by

“What kind of mess?”

of your business. …Now, listen. There are rules when you hunt, so you’d better listen. First, and the most important, we

frown. “What do you take

until you taste the real thing,” he scoffs. “Trust me, it’s going to be harder than you think. So just try to remember that, but we’ll see how you do in practice. Secondly, we don’t leave our victims anywhere that could

weird,

No kid, and I mean anyone underage. If you have a doubt, it’s a no. We also stay away from junkies,

“That’s one weird mix.”

want to stay off those. Also try to avoid people that could be useful or see you often,

“Got it.”

a bit tired of the lesson… of the theory. I finally turn to face the room, glancing around. The people here are already intoxicated, for most of them anyway. I’m starting to

like you got your prey all ready,

dress, my legs exposed, and from where those guys stand, Bart probably doesn’t look

“Pick one.”

a young, impressive girl thinking she just caught the bad boy’s eye. It’s almost too easy. I’ve always been aware I’m pretty, and