“Bring her to the charity masquerade ball so the three of us can meet her. Do not propose to her before then, understood?” I push away from the table and stand, no longer having an appetite.
“But that’s not for another six weeks,” Nero grumbles.
“I’m aware.” I turn my attention to Kol. “In the meantime, you know what to do.”
He nods, not saying a word. Kol will have a more thorough background check on my desk by this afternoon.
I stride from the dining room to head to my office, excited for two things today. The first is the beginning of my pursuit to ruin Preston Wallace’s life. And the second is the surprise I have in store for Anabelle at lunch.
I spent my morning directing my investment manager on what to do and telling him to make it happen as quickly and under the radar as possible. I can’t wait until I have Preston’s balls in a vise so I can start squeezing.
It’s a few minutes from the time Anabelle usually breaks for lunch when I stand from my desk and walk over to hers.
I told Marcel to keep me apprised of anything I need to know regarding Anabelle. He mentioned that he thought she might be feeling lonely because she’s continuing to have her dinners down in the staff building, rather than in the main house.
The easy thing for me to do is to spend some time with her, but that would give her the wrong impression. Not only that, but it would make it even more difficult than it already is to resist temptation where she’s concerned.
I’m already counting down the days until our next Saturday night together, planning what I want to do.
Even this little surprise I have planned for her has the potential of making her think there could be more between us, but I don’t like the idea of her feeling all alone in this place. I know exactly how that feels from my childhood and the idea of Anabelle feeling the same… I can’t take it.
“Ready to break for lunch?” I ask when I reach her desk.
She looks at me from where she’s seated. As it always does when I see her from this angle, my brain makes the connection to when she kneeled in front of me with my cock in her mouth. But there will be none of that today.
“I guess it’s time, isn’t it? Do you need something before I go eat?” She tilts her head and looks at me a little quizzically.
Probably because I just usually mutter at her from my desk when she leaves for lunch.
“I don’t need anything, but I do need you to come with me. I have a surprise for you.”
Her forehead creases. “A surprise?”
“Yes, I’m sure you’re familiar with the term. Now come on.” I motion with my head toward the door and stride over, waiting at the threshold until she joins me.
“Where are we going?” she asks, wide-eyed.
“You’ll have to come with me to see.”
I lead her out of the office and through the common areas of Midnight Manor until we reach the hallway with the arches and stained glass that leads to the west wing. Although I want to lead her to my bedroom and spend the afternoon making her come, I don’t. I need to stop thinking with my dick where Anabelle is concerned.
We continue past the stained-glass bear, and she doesn’t say a word or inquire any further about where we might be headed. Maybe she’s wishing we’re going to my bedroom as much as I am.
When we reach the library doors, I pause, my hands gripping the handles. I don’t know why I’m second-guessing myself. I’ve given this a lot of thought. But then again, that seems to be the effect Anabelle has on me—she makes me second-guess everything I thought I knew I wanted.
Pushing open the doors, I step inside the space that was once my mother’s salvation. The place she’d go to escape the realities of her life and immerse herself in a different world.
“What are we doing here?” Anabelle asks from behind me.
I turn to face her. She appears hesitant, probably remembering the last time she was in here, and I chased her out.
“I want you to have this. It’s yours to do what you want with—read what you want, arrange the books however you want, hang out in here as much as you want.”
Her plump lips slowly part as her mouth drops open, and she glances around, wide-eyed. “What do you mean? I thought you didn’t want me in here.”
I step forward, fingers itching to cup her face, but I force myself to retract my hand. “This room is where my mother spent a lot of her time. She loved reading—she was like you in that way. I’ve already alluded to you that my parents’ marriage wasn’t a happy one, and this is where she found her solace. I want you to do the same. Use it as you see fit.”
I know that I should tell her she can move back into her family estate, or that she can come and go as she pleases, give her phone back—but I can’t bring myself to give her any of that.