The Dark Secret of the CEO

Chapter 17

Before I even understand what is happening to me, I’m in the salon with Benedict, suddenly learning the basics of French and Italian, and having my accent pointed out at every single word I use. Only Bart has cleared the area, while Cata made me some peppermint tea right before my throat went dry from talking so much. Richard doesn’t say a word and Swithin is still busy furiously typing on his phone, tablet and laptop, interchanging them regularly, and I wonder why they stay to listen as I butcher European languages, but then I realize they might actually both be enjoying this. NôvelDrama.Org owns all © content.

Benedict turned from a sweet gentleman to an absolute nightmare of a teacher. He’s happy to tear apart my poor American education, with that polite but whipping tone of his, and reminds me every chance he gets that most of the Heartgraves speak three different languages, while my California- flavored – sorry, flavoured- English is just not going to cut it. Now, I have to speak as if I was having tea time with the queen, say grey instead of gray, skip a lot of “R”s, and add some “U”s. It’s not just that, but the way I speak as well. Benedict makes me speak slowly, calmly. He even gauges how deep or low my voice is, and how my lips move.

“You are supposed to speak softly, gently. Control your speech, your voice.”

“Why?” I sigh after the sixth time of repeating the same stupid sentence. “I already feel like I lived in the sixteenth century, what difference does it make how I speak?”

“First, if you had indeed lived in the sixteenth century, you would certainly not get to talk back to your elders like this, very young Lady,” he retorts. “Secondly, you ought to know that your appearance is the first thing people see, whilst your voice is the first thing people hear. You are not a child anymore, you’re a Heartgraves. You should learn how to impose your command in every room you walk in.”

“Can’t I just charm people?”

“That shortcut is not going to work every time,” he rolls his eyes. “It may work on the weak-minded, but may I remind you, you are still a child to us, Baby Vamp. In fact, most vampires consider that charm is

only for the weakest to use. Humans should be subjugated without the use of our power. Once you have years of experience, you will become someone who can naturally influence your surroundings.”

I think I can already see what he’s talking about. They are all like that. Each and every one of them, upon first meeting them, I felt inferior to them, almost envious. Richard didn’t have to use his power on me to intimidate me, but neither did the others. Even Bart made a strong impression on me, and we stuck out at all the bars we went dancing to, mostly because of him. They all have charisma. Grace arrived late, but she walked into that place like she owned it. They are all very different, but there is something incredible and imposing about the auras surrounding them. I felt like I was standing in a room full of celebrities of their own right, just on different levels. It was like being the newbie actress all over again… Except that last time it happened, I was sixteen and fairly confident, arrogant even. Not anymore. Benedict can school me all he wants, I’m well aware he could probably have me licking the floor if he wanted to…

“…I understand,” I mutter.

He nods, but still sighs faintly.

“That is good to hear, but we still have a long way to go to carve you into a decent vampire, and an acceptable Heartgraves. You need to drop that foolish accent for good. Think about each word you pick, your tone, the way you move, the way you act.”

“I feel like I’m preparing for a role.”

“If that makes it easier for you, then think of it that way. But this is going to be the role for your next five centuries of life, so I suggest you get extremely good at it. You will have to fool not only that man you were close to, but the whole world, Hera. We cannot have the world think you are June Starr anymore after you died. I admit, we have never had such a complex case. Just eighty years ago, it was extremely easy to move across the country and wait for the world to forget about us. Things are

different nowadays, and we cannot just have them erase your whole previous life from people’s minds or the internet. So, we need to get rid of everything left of June Starr. Do you understand?”

I nod. I’m not crazy about this patronizing tone he’s using with me, but I know he’s right. I can’t help but glance back at Richard, although I’m only seeing the back of his seat now. Was he thinking about that too when he transformed me? Of how difficult, how risky it would be to have a former celebrity become one of them? I’m still baffled no one has brought this up yet, but like before, it seems like any decision of his goes.

We keep going, and I’m trying to keep up, but this is unlike any lesson I’ve received before. We don’t just work on my pronunciation: for every word, Benedict gives me a full explanation of where it came from, the variations, why the pronunciation changed, and so on. I feel like I’m getting a full European history course and speech exercise packed in a language lesson. He even corrects my posture, how I carry my cup of tea, and often reminds me to straighten up, broaden my shoulders or lift my chin. Two hours later, I feel an inch taller, but my tongue is swollen and my head aching. He sighs, and gets up.

“That will do for tonight. Any more than this you will not be able to remember. Please do remember to watch your pronunciation at all times. I will be listening.”

“I understand,” I nod, in my most British accent possible.

He nods back, and walks away, probably fed up with me. I sigh, and use those few seconds he’s away to stretch a bit. Cata chuckles, and pours me some more hot water.

“Benedict is a bit harsh but he’s a good teacher. He used to have a school in the south of Italy.”

“I can tell,” I groan.

I take my cup of tea, but the truth is, I try to keep doing everything he told me. It’s just as we discussed earlier. Hera isn’t a new role I need to learn, it’s a new skin I need to fit into, and the sooner the better.

The truth is, since Swithin has got him to agree to come to London, I’ve been feeling nervous… Benedict doesn’t need to remind me how quickly I need to adapt; I already know. How can I fool that bastard into not recognizing me? It’s scary.

Richard slowly walks into the kitchen, taking me out of my thoughts. I didn’t realize Cata had prepared some tea for him. It’s a cup of Earl Grey, and he sits down next to me to drink it in silence. Richard is always so tall, impressive and elegant, he doesn’t really fit into Cata’s bohemian style kitchen.

“We only have a few days,” he says after a couple of sips. “So we will have to get you ready for the outside world sooner than most. You’ll keep learning how to hunt with Bartholomew, or whoever is available, and Benedict and Swithin will stay to teach you about your new identity. Rebecca and Anna will also help you forge your new identity, but because of your current goal, it is important that you learn how to be a vampire and yet blend in with humans.”

I nod, a bit nervous. It’s one of the first times Richard’s spoken this much to me, and he’s sitting very close, the hair on my nape is standing on edge. He’s not even looking at me, yet I feel like I’m pinned to my chair…

“…I will do anything it takes,” I mutter.

I’ve had time to calm down a bit while Benedict harassed me about my speech, but my determination is all the same. Moreover, I’m aware of how lucky I am, perhaps more than anybody. I’ve never had this many people ready to help me, without asking anything in return. If I’m fully honest, it’s too new, too sudden and almost scary to me…

“Alright,” he says. “Then, go and feed the cats.”

…What? I’m not sure I heard that right. I glance at Cata, who heard the same thing, but looks a bit worried, her dark eyebrows furrowed.

“…Richard, are you sure?” She asks with her gentle voice, glancing my direction.

But the Overlord simply nods, and puts his cup to his lips. Catherina doesn’t bother to argue any further. While I’m still utterly confused, she turns around, opens a cupboard and in front of my eyes, prepares a full plate of tuna and kibble. …There are cats here? I wouldn’t mind feeding any cat, but from Cata’s expression, it will not be that simple. She hands me the plate, looking a little bit paler than before.

“In the garden,” she simply says.

I glance at Richard, but he’s focused on his second cup of tea. Alright, then… I grab the plate and get up, walking towards the garden. I have to walk by the living room, and Swithin barely raises his eyes at me, still visibly very focused. Is he still working on my case? Or something else, perhaps? From what Bart said, he ought to be one busy man…

I put my hand on the door to the outside, and open it. Now that I think about it, they are probably saving a ton on gas, since no one living here needs heating… I can’t tell though, since the temperature outside seems exactly the same as inside to me. I am just aware of a gentle breeze, but nothing unusual for London. A bit nervous, I walk into the garden, holding the plate full of food. Enough food for half a dozen cats, actually. …Don’t tell me they are raising a tiger or something like that? That would be silly…

To my relief, I finally spot a cat, a grey tabby, laying in the grass, right before the garden furniture.

That’s when it suddenly hits me. A pressure that chokes me, almost kicks me back inside. I shiver, but use all my strength to stay where I am. I breathe slowly, and glance up, looking straight ahead. I swear in a way Benedict certainly wouldn’t approve. I almost didn’t see her again. Beatrix, sitting in the middle of the sofa, and staring right at me.

It’s even worse when I look her right in the eye, so I avert my eyes immediately. From the bit I saw, she’s right ahead, sitting with her feet crossed on the couch. She’s at least ten steps away, but the pressure is horrible. It’s like I’m trying to swim against a hurricane, she’s using her Domination and trying to push me away. My God, she didn’t even say anything! I have to remind myself to breathe, not for the need of air, but to remind myself I can control my own body somewhat. To calm down. I realize she’s doing this on purpose, and it’s just horrible. She was tolerating me before, but now, I’m just an insect about to be smashed by a leather shoe. She wants me out of the garden, out of here. So that’s it. This is what feeding the cats is really about, resisting Beatrix’ Domination power. It’s another exercise, and a much more violent one. …Is she using all of her power? It does feel like I’m being crushed by a fucking monument. The guy from earlier tonight had me in his power, too. It’s like Bart said, they could get me to crawl on the floor. …Except that I won’t.

I do my best to calm down, and try to resist. It’s like I’m in a nightmare, with this urging feeling to escape out of here, out of that terrifying woman’s power. My whole body has gone numb, yet shivering in fear, as if I could feel ice running through my veins. Don’t run away, don’t stop trying. This time it’s Beatrix, but what if it isn’t a Heartgraves next time? …I need to learn how to not be subjugated and killed. If I can resist her, I can probably survive a meeting with most vampires out there… or so I really, really hope. Because my whole body is screaming right now, and I’m fighting my survival instincts. I can’t remember ever feeling fear as such a physical reaction before, while my mind is still somewhat rational. I want to look at her again, force myself to actually look at Beatrix, and that’s when I realize I have tears rolling down my cheeks. My lips are trembling. I struggle to look up, my whole head shaking, shivering in protest, as if there’s a gigantic hand forcing me to keep my head down in front of her. I see her feet, and the cat purring on her lap. In fact, I see at least three different cats around her, all of them probably wondering why the heck I am not bringing their damn food. One of them even walks up to me and purrs, rubbing its back against my leg. The plate in my hand is even leaking some of its content because of my ridiculous shaking. I try to calm down, force my head to calm down, fight my whole

body, but it’s like I’m having the worst fever of my life. Or perhaps a seizure, although I’ve never had one myself.

I realize I haven’t taken a single step, I haven’t moved even an inch closer since Beatrix used her Domination to stop me. I’m still frozen in the same spot, and it’s been God knows how long. Perhaps even less than a minute, but it feels like a fucking century. Calm down, calm down. She’s not going to harm you, she’s probably not even going to move. Hell, I feel like I’m about to face the ultimate boss of some game, and she’s only the number three of the family… No, I’ve got this. I need to beat her, to move. Even just a finger, a real movement, not some stupid shaking… I glance down at my feet. Move! Move! I scream in my head, but even my lips are tightly sealed.

I need to focus somewhere. I stare at my right foot, and imagine it moving. I can do this. I can move. Even just an inch closer…

Suddenly, it stops.

I fall down on my knees from the effort, and the plate luckily lands just right, prompting all the cats to run to it for their dinner. While they happily eat and fight around the plate, I’m still shaking, and out of breath. I still have shivers running down my spine, but it’s nothing compared to what I experienced just before. I feel like I just got off some rollercoaster… I glance up, although I’m still afraid.

Beatrix is gently petting a small, dark cat on her lap. She glances at me, but this time, she spares me. Just like Richard, that woman hides her emotions perfectly; I don’t have the smallest clue what’s going on behind those dark irises, and it might be for the better. While I’m still on my knees, recovering, she slowly gets up after a good minute. I watch her move forward, and while I think she’s going to walk past me like before, she doesn’t. To my surprise, she gently puts the small kitten in my hand. I didn’t even realize I still had it open… Then, she calmly walks back inside, and the last of the pressure is gone. I catch a breath, and sit back on my butt, completely exhausted, when I hear a chuckle.

I glance up, and sure enough, Cecily is staring down at me from one of the windows. Is that her bedroom?

“Not bad, newbie,” she says.

“…I barely moved,” I groan.

“The fact that you managed to look at her twice is impressive enough. …I think she likes you.”

I want to roll my eyes, but Benedict also warned against that habit. Cecily chuckles again.

“Alright, come on up, Little Sis. I’ve got something for you.”