Page 12 of The Veiling

“Can you call Valentino then,” I exhaled desperately, “if I give you his number?”

He lowered his eyes for a moment before bringing his gaze back to mine. “It’s too risky right now. I don’t know who’s watching, and it’s in your best interest to let me protect you.” He spun away, marching toward the door.

“Please!” I pleaded loudly.

He froze the moment he was in the threshold with a larger gentleman in a suit. “I wish I could, but I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why?!”

“Not until this is over.” He sped out of the room.

“Until what’s over?! I’m dead?! Felipe’s dead?! What?!”

A man in a black mask covering the top half of his face, stuck his arm in the room and closed the door.

“Ugh!” I stomped to the chair and fell back in it.

No longer was I terrified for my safety. It was clear he was not planning to hurt me, so I hoped. I was, however, infuriated by whoever the man was. For all I knew, he could have been lying to me and it was his way of grooming me for his own sick game, but I did not get that feeling from him‌ whatsoever. I was confused and truly could not make up my mind how I felt.

The door clicked again. I spun around to see another man waltz in with a gold tray of food and set it on the table next to the bed. He turned to me and bowed his head. “If you’re hungry or thirsty.” He spoke in a thick, Italian accent, then cleared his throat. “My boss wants you to have strength.”

Instead of thanking him, I stared blankly as he hurried out and closed the door, locking it behind him. One thing was certain. I was going to get the hell out of this place, even if I died in the process. Whether the jester and his people meant me harm, or they truly saved me, the only people I fully trusted were my own.

Revealed

“You didn’t eat anything.”

Astonished, my eyes sprung open, and I punched the air, whacking my knuckles against something hard.

“Damnit!” The muffled voice jumped back, holding the bottom of his mask as the lid to the food clanked on the floor.

Sitting up, I gasped, shaking my stinging hand. “I forgot where I was and you’re terrifying to wake up to! That hurt!”

“Lucky for you, I didn’t feel a thing. You just caught me off guard.” He picked up the tray’s cover, setting it back on top of the food. “Get up and follow me.”

I stood, taking a step forward, then stopped.

He paused, cocking his head. “What’s wrong?”

“My eyes aren’t covered.”

“What?”

“You’re going to let me see your house?”

“This isn’t my house,” he scoffed. “I don’t give a shit what you see. You won’t find anything here that will tell you who I am.”

Hesitantly, I slid off the bed. He took several steps back, maintaining a safe distance. After slipping on my shoes, I plodded toward the door behind him. A man led us down several corridors with one shadowing behind me. Normally, I would have observed everything around me, but there was nothing to memorize. No art hung on the walls. No rugs lined the walnut hardwood floors. The entire home seemed suspiciously desolate as we descended the staircase and turned the corner to a dining room.

Only a rectangular, black modern table for six sat in the center of the room beneath an enormous gold, Sputnik sphere light fixture. I crept closer, noticing there was only one place setting, covered with a gold dome. I glanced at the two men, then the jester.

“You need to eat.” He nodded his head toward the table.

One man stepped over, pulling the chair out for me. “Ma’am.”

Gulping, I inched closer and sat. The jester sat next to me at the head of the table. Someone else stepped over, revealing the plate of food. My eyes swelled at the full breakfast, neatly arranged on the plate. Bacon, eggs, sausage, and French toast.So, he has a chef…or he IS a chef.

I opened my mouth to speak but someone set two glasses in front of me; water and orange juice. Then they placed a small bowl of fresh fruit above the plate. “Thank you,” I murmured before looking at the jester’s empty placemat. “Uh, you aren’t going to eat?”

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