Page 14 of Amour Fou
“Excuse me?”
“I didn’t come here for cereal; I came here to check your restraint. And just as I thought… not very good.” She giggles, hopping off the side, and I realise I’ve been played. “Sleep well.” She winks up at me, tapping my chest patronisingly before leaving through the archway of the kitchen.
The beating of her feet against the hardwood floor pisses me off, and the moment Xaden steps into the kitchen—his arms crossed over his chest and a shit-eating grin on his face—I hold my finger up.
“Don’t… say a fucking word.” I growl, cutting him off before he has a chance to give me shit.
I cracked, and so easily too. I lean back against the kitchen island and rub both my hands over my face, the scent of her still lingering on my fingers.
Fuck.
“Did she just—”
“Use me? Yeah.” I nod. “I think she did.”
“Ithink I’m in love,” he murmurs.
“You think you’re in love with every woman you see.”
“Did you just see the way she treated you like you were just a piece of meat… I mean, wow, she’s something else, and you just took it like a little—”
“Xaden!” I snap.
He holds his hands up in surrender, but the smile on his face tells me he’s loving this.
“Do me a favour,” I cut him off, “go get your fucking laptop. There’s something I want to look at.” A devilish grin covers his face before he runs from the kitchen and down the hallway. If she thinks she can fuck me up like that,she has another thing coming. I’m pretty sure Deckard performed a full background check, so let’s have a little look into Alyssa, shall we.
It’s finally here.
Amour Fou, the manor filled with people.
The theme for tonight is a gothic masked ball. Everyone wears dark clothing and filigree masks to cover their faces, giving the illusion of shadows roaming the rooms. Blood-red lights covet the ceiling, blanketing the manor with a dark, eerie feeling.
Heavy R&B music playing from the sound system has a sexualised tone to it, while the Caretakers walk around wearing plague doctor costumes and masks. The manor has taken on a sultry yet dark image, playing on the fact that there isn’t much lighting so that the guests can enjoy their time here in privacy –guests drinking from goblets instead of glasses, all the windows draped in thick blackout curtains to keep the sanctity of what’s inside hidden.
Each room has been filled with different themes catering to specific desires of the users. The West Wing has been set aside for anyone who chooses to divulge in sexual activity without a Caretaker—privately… or openly with others. Men are dressed in all black suits, women in gothic style dresses of their choosing.
Tonight, I chose a black dress, with a corset boning around the bust. Thigh-high leather boots and black mask similar to The Phantom of the Opera. My hair flows down my back in loose waves with the front pinned back from my face.
I take the steps down the winding staircase on the right-hand side of the main hall, my hand gliding over the top of the smooth banister for balance. Tonight,the manor is filled with guests from around the world, rich men and women engaging in depraved acts.
Stilt walkers roam the room dressed in black and white suits with devil masks covering their faces, magicians entertaining small crowds into laughter and excitement, and aerialists wrapped in red and black silk hanging from the ceiling. Now that everything has finally come together, it’s perfect.
I haven’t spoken to, or had any close contact with Xaden since the pool house, and Zeke since the incident within the kitchen, but I’ve caught them staring while setting up the final few things for tonight.
“Looking good.” Zeke’s raspy voice sounds beside me, and I quiver.
I turn to face him then, but it’s not his handsome features I’m used to, but the faceless black mask that covers it, gold paint scattered over the forehead to give the illusion of it dripping. His broad, muscular frame fills the black suit he’s wearing, and he smells fucking incredible too.
“I know.” I shrug.
Raising a gloved hand to my chin, he pinches it, the cold leather pressed against my warm skin brings a hitch in my breathe.
“I looked you up, Alyssa. You applied to attend here two years ago.” Bending at the waist, the smooth fabric of the mask runs along my cheek, my core throbbing instantly with his close proximity. “I know all your dirty little secrets now. Let’s just hope you remember your safe word.”
Without giving me a chance to respond, he brushes past me and makes his way down the stairs, blending in perfectly with the rest of the workers. It’s only when he disappears entirely… that my safe word floods into my mind…
Vanilla.
