Page 14 of Hostile Secret
No one appears from the shadows to greet us or assist with the luggage. I can’t help the shiver rattling my weary bones when I stand in the middle of the cavernous space.
I’m all on my own here, gazing up at the soaring ceiling, a dangling candelabra like something from the medieval era, and intricately carved wooden beams that twist into an ornate balustrade of a sweeping staircase.
After leaving the briny air outside, there’s a distinct smokiness mixed with the aroma of gunpowder or polished swords like a musty smell you’d expect in an antique store. This gloomy setting is not what I’d expected from André’s twin. The brothers’ homes are polar opposites.
I’m used to sunshine and raucous atmosphere, not shadows and solitude.
In shock at the archaic surroundings, my stomach knots as I turn to find Giovanni.
He climbs the dark wooden staircase, his silent steps following the natural curve like a god rising to his moonless throne.
“Daenis!” I call out, my small voice echoing in the unwelcoming void.
As soon as I say her name, Giovanni stops and glances back over his shoulder. “The dog stays downstairs.”
“No!” I snap. “She stays with me… in my room.”
Daenis darts through the thin gap left in the doorway, seconds before it closes, shutting with a loud click. She doesn’t appear unnerved by her new home—not in the slightest. And as if to agree with that theory, she pads under an archway and disappears into perpetual darkness.
“The dog stays downstairs. If I find it in your room, I’ll lock it outside.”
“What difference does it make if she sleeps with me?” I march to the bottom tread, my eyes drilling into him. “She won’t be anywhere near you.”
Halted in place, a few stairs down from the carpeted landing, he appears almost regal in stature. The crowned ruler of this unusual domain.
“This isn’t a debate, niñita. Hurry up. I have things to do.”
The hairs on my scalp prickle when he reaches the top and turns left out of sight. I look behind me, seeing only unlit corridors.
My small whimper chases me upstairs while a flurry of goosebumps scream at me that I’m being watched.
“Gio! Wait…” My heart rate accelerates.
Cold air caresses my cheeks. I practically run after him along the paneled corridor, where every door is shut and the murky length of it is lit only by a handful of metal wall sconces.
There’s no artwork or family portraits hanging on the wall, or fancy ornaments on the chunky console table.
He pauses momentarily at the far end until I catch up and then twists the doorknob of the final door to reveal my new bedroom.
“This is your room. Make yourself comfortable. You’ll be here for a while.”
I frown. “Did Dré say how long?”
“Until you finish high school. A couple of months at most.”
“Wonderful.”
He ignores my heavy sigh and steps out of the way. Inside, the odor of fresh paint and furniture polish hits me first. A newly laid lavender-blue carpet spreads its way into the airy cylindrical suite.
It's not musty or creepy, but rather a blend of modern furnishings and custom-made furniture that gleams under the moonlight pouring in through leaded glass windows.
Giovanni stalks to the hefty four-poster bed in the middle of the room and offloads my bag onto a crisp white bedspread, disturbing a meticulous arrangement of plush scatter cushions. “You start Thornhill Academy tomorrow. Get some rest. Goodnight.”
I spin on the spot to watch him leave. “That's it?”
Thick eyebrows pull together in a thoughtful frown. “The bathroom is through there.” He points to the doorway beside a bowfront dresser. “Don’t sleep in.”
Our gazes clash. Piercing jade eyes appear darker than they actually are, somewhat joyless in the shadows, hiding all sorts of unspoken thoughts in their depths. A lock of disheveled hair, as black as coal, hooks his smooth brow.
