Page 19 of Unravelling The Beast

“Where’s my room?”

As he passes by me, he takes my suitcase and effortlessly lifts it up the grand stairs. I follow behind him, my large bag draped over my arm, and when we reach the top, we walk through the dark corridor before he stops outside of a door, opens it, and enters.

When I stroll in behind him, I take a look around. It's dark and moody, like the rest of his house, but it's still beautiful and elegant.

"There's an en-suite just over there."

I turn around and look at the door he motions to with his hand before returning my focus to him and giving a slight, uncertain nod. As I look around again, I feel his eyes on me the entire time when I finally decide to speak.

“Is your entire house this dark?”

I turn to face him while leaning up against a chest of drawers, and he answers while pushing his hands into his pant pockets, wearing a similar tight suit to the night I first met him.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

He straightens up, clearly irritated that I am questioning or even trying to engage him in conversation, before shrugging his broad shoulders.

“It suits me just fine. I like it just as much as you like your little fucking panties.”

I raise an eyebrow in defiance as we just stare at one another for a beat before I continue on.

“But, why is it so dark?”

His black eyes are fixed on mine, peering deep into the deepest depths of me as he answers.

“This dark house feeds my dark fucking soul. The way I like it.”

As I stare at him, stunned by his response, he breaks eye contact and rubs his chin with his tattooed fingers.

“I'll be back later tonight. Cree isn't here tonight, as you probably already know. Help yourself to whatever you want.”

He now no longer looks at me, and my focus follows him as he walks out, slamming the door behind him, the sudden loudness causing my body to jolt.

What the hell have I gotten myself into? And did he really just take my fucking panties? Maybe Lil was right after all, but I need to tread carefully here. Something is still not quite right about this man. I can't put my finger on it, but I'm sure I'll figure it out in time, and the thought both intrigues and terrifies me.

As the day fades into night, I take a shower in the luxury en-suite bathroom that connects to the bedroom where I'll be staying. Once I am out, I blow dry my thick hair in front of the mirror and apply night cream to my makeup-free face.

When I'm done pampering for bed, I return to the bedroom and change into a cute, comfortable two-piece outfit—a white crop top and shorts. I lay down on the spacious bed, grabbing for my beats and placing them over my ears.

I listen to music and become lost in my own thoughts for a while, staring up at the towering ceiling, until I have a sudden craving for a glass of red wine.

I mean, Arlo isn't home yet, and Cree isn't here on the weekends, so why not sneak downstairs, see if I can grab a large glass, and then return back here? I nervously chew my bottom lip at the thought but eventually muster up the courage to go down there.

I leap out of bed, still listening to music in my ears, and make my way to my door. Once I have opened it, I stroll down the long, dark, eerie corridor beforetiptoeing down the cold stairs onmy bare feet, feeling anxious about this enormous house as I move through it while I nervously look around.

When I reach the bottom stair, I proceed to the living room, knowing that the huge kitchen is just to the right. As soon as I walk in, I admire all of the black appliances, the gray marble island, and the gleaming gray tiles on the floor and walls.

An enormous, dazzling chandelier hangs low above the island, twinkling everything, and the ceiling is mirrored with spot lights, making everything appear even bigger.

I immediately look for a wine rack or something that could possibly hold bottles of wine, but I soon realize I am not successful. I start opening the bottom cupboards and soon find a couple of bottles, which makes me smile.

"Yes!"

I do a little happy dance while setting a bottle on the counter before humming along to the music that is blaring in my ears.

"Where do you keep your wine glasses, Mr Hayes?"

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