Page 6 of Moonlit Thorns

The breeding my mother drilled into me kicks in, and I do my best to smile at him despite my nerves. “Anabelle Boudreaux.”

His eyebrows raise. “Ah, from the adjoining estate.”

I nod. “Yes. I’m here to see Mr. Voss… Asher Voss, that is.”

He claps his hands in front of himself, startling me. “Of course. Right this way. Mr. Voss is in his office.”

Marcel waits for me to step into the house before he closes the door and leads me through the house. It’s no surprise to me that Midnight Manor is big, but I didn’t realize how enormous it was until I follow Marcel through room after room.

The only other people I see are servants.

Though there are many arched windows throughout the property, even in the middle of the day it’s still dim. Shadows encompass every corner of the rooms, except the ones with all the lights on. And even then, it feels darker than it should be this time of day.

When Marcel leads me down a long hallway with a soaring ceiling displaying ribbed vaulting, I realize that we’re moving away from the central part of the house into one of the other wings. I’m so turned around that I have no idea whether it’s one of the two I saw from outside or a different one entirely.

Eventually, we stop in front of a dark wood door, and Marcel turns to me. “If he’s a little… difficult today, please forgive him. It’s already been a day, and it’s not even lunch.”

My eyes flare wide. Wonderful. I’ve chosen to visit a man rumored to be a predator when he’s having a bad day.

Marcel doesn’t wait for me to respond. He spins quickly on his heel and knocks on the door before swinging it open a couple of feet. “A Miss Anabelle Boudreaux to see you, sir.”

Marcel pushes the door open the rest of the way and retreats down the hallway, leaving me staring at a man who exudes power and dominance. Even with his attention on some papers on the large wooden desk in front of him, it’s obvious this man is harmful.

I’m frozen where I stand. My legs won’t work, won’t move when I command them to. I’m standing in the center of the house that fueled the urban myths and nightmares of my childhood. Not only that, but I’m under the scrutiny of the biggest and baddest of them all.

“Did you come here to stare at me all day, or is there an actual purpose to your unscheduled visit? Be quick about it, Miss Boudreaux. I have things to do.” His voice is deep and menacing, and when he raises his head to look at me, my breath lodges in my throat.

It’s not as though I’ve never seen a picture of Asher Voss—though there are few of him online—but the few pictures don’t do him justice. Sure, I’ve passed him on the street a handful of occasions, but even then, I couldn’t take him in.

His deep blue eyes settle on me. The way his dark hair curls down toward his ears, some pieces falling forward onto his forehead, makes me want to reach across the expanse of the room and brush them away from his perfectly sculpted face.

He’s perfect as if his beauty was created to draw you in.

I stand at the threshold of his office feeling like a rabbit caught in the sightline of a hunter, too afraid to scamper away for fear it will draw attention to me.

He continues to study me with measured patience. Finally, with resignation, I step into his office, close the door and walk toward his desk. The bored and irritated expression on his face does nothing for my confidence.

“Thank you for taking the time to see me.” I clear my throat since my voice sounds squeaky to my own ears. “It’s an urgent matter that couldn’t wait.”

“So I gathered.” He motions to one of the chairs in front of his desk.

I slowly sink down, careful not to wrinkle my dress. I notice a tattoo of a lethal-looking bear on his hand. Its eyes are fierce, and its jaw is wide open in a ferocious roar, long sharp teeth on display.

Once I’m seated, I reach into my purse and pull out the paper, then set it on the desk in front of me, careful not to get too close. I’m not dumb enough to get within his grasp. “I think there’s been some kind of mistake. This was pinned to our door this morning.”

He gives the paper a cursory glance and leans back in his chair as though this entire conversation is a waste of time. “I assure you, there’s been no mistake.”

I blink a couple of times. I secretly hoped he was going to tell me there was an error of some kind. Maybe be rude and dismissive, annoyed that he had to deal with me, but the letter was not meant for us.

“How can that possibly be? Oak Haven has been in my family for centuries. There’s no mortgage on the property, no liens.”

“I’m afraid, Miss Boudreaux, your father needed money. I gave it to him, and in return, if he defaulted on payments, Oak Haven Estate was mine.”

“Why would he ever come to you?” My voice comes out more forcefully and snippier than it probably should.

Asher Voss’s eyes narrow like the beast he is. “Tread carefully, little girl. You’re lucky I even allowed you to see me today. I did it as a courtesy because you’ve just lost your father and for no other reason. I’m just as apt to throw you out without giving you the information you want.”

Daddy, what did you do? Why would you sign a deal with the devil? Tears sting the corners of my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall in front of this man.

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