Page 82 of Grotesque Love

Opening a drawer, I try to focus on the task at hand but there isn’t much in here either. I reach towards the back of the draw, letting out a hiss when I catch my finger on something sharp. Carefully grabbing the pointy object, I unbury it from amongst all the paperwork.

It’s an earring. A dangly teardrop, too garish to be one of my mother’s, and too cheap to be an heirloom. Where did this come from?

A few more files reveal that Carver is richer than I thought, especially given the disrepair of the manor house and the lack of staff. Why is he hoarding all his money?

Leaning back in the chair, I curse. “Fuck.”

Why isn’t there anything here? And if there is nothing here, why is he so determined to keep me out of the west wing? Is he ashamed of how he’s let the house crumble? No. There has to be something more to it than that.

I blink slowly, my eyes heavy. Maybe I should have a nap in the solarium and wait for sunset. Then I can talk to Sax and press him for more information about the evil they think they’ll find in here.

Returning everything to where I found it, I retrace my steps, stopping outside Carver’s office to place the keys on the floor in the hope that he’ll think he dropped them on his way out.

Exhausted, I drag my weary body to the chaise lounge and lie back. My eyes flutter a few times as I struggle to keep them open and finally, with the silence of the house surrounding me, and the late afternoon sun warming me, I drift into a heavy sleep.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CARVER

I’d been reluctant to leave Arianwen behind earlier. Her clinging to me was a nice surprise, and to have her willing and warm in my arms has been playing on repeat in my mind as I went about my mindless tasks with Danvers.

The police had some questions about some missing woman – apparently she’d been spotted talking to me last week at a party. But as I told them, I’m a widower with no time for relationships, my time is dedicated solely to my step-daughter.

With no evidence, and no further questions, I was free to go but it had soured my mood, especially given that I had to leave my princess at home alone to waste my time with the investigation.

As I make my way to the solarium, where I’ll no doubt find her sleeping, especially since I’d given her something a little stronger last night and I may have added a little extra to her tea mix, a glint of metal catches my gaze on the patterned carpet.

My keys.

Why were my keys out here on thefloor?

Had I dropped them?

Frowning, I head to the west wing needing to reassure myself that everything is still on track. My plan will not fail, not this close to the finishing line.

As I stride down the dark corridor, everything looks the same. I open the rooms, but nothing appears out of the ordinary.

Taking a seat at my desk and glancing out at my private family museum, I grin. It may not appear as though there is anything of real value in here, but amongst the mundane artefacts, are trophies from throughout the centuries.

They say my family is cursed, a punishment from a local witch, but as my eyes land on mementos of the lords and ladies who came before me, the corner of my mouth pulls up into a smirk. We were gifted. Powerful. Untouchable.

I slide open the bottom drawer in the desk and find the hidden button at the back, pushing down on it hard. As one of the portraits swings away from the wall, my eyes catch on something.

The blue folder.

It’s not at the bottom of the pile of paperwork where I left it. Flipping it open, I go through the contents, realising that some of them are out of order.

I stop on the last clipping. Running my finger over the blurry picture, I drink her in. All that beautiful silver hair. Big blue eyes, wide and empty. A perfect doll.

Keeping the newspaper article clutched in my hand, I step through the doorway behind the portrait and follow the stone steps down. This secret passage had first been built for smuggling, but my ancestors had gotten a little more creative and…bloodthirsty over the years.

The stone chamber looks exactly as I left it, and I survey my playroom with a restless glee.Soon.

Quiet whimpers come from the corner of the room, but I ignore them and add the clipping to the others.

I’ve waited a long time for her to be mine. To own her, body and soul. It almost feels like a lifetime now, but it looks like I’mnot the only one getting impatient. I may have to move up my plans by a day or two after all.

Soon, princess. Soon.

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