The Dark Secret of the CEO by Sofia de Orellana

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. What the fuck do I do? It’s far too late to move, he saw me. We’re literally standing perhaps six, seven feet away from each other, and staring at one another. My heart’s doing some horrible dance in my chest and just won’t fucking stop. What the heck is he doing here!

“…Can I help you?” I force myself to utter.

Posh, British accent, deep voice. I slip back into Hera’s role as if I was acting for a damn Oscar. Every single limb of mine gets into its role, and I’m trying to replay Benedict’s lessons at full speed. I have to act nothing like June, if there’s just the slightest bit of chance he recognized me… I stand tall, checking him out from head to toe – the heels definitely help – as if I was seeing him for the very first time, and slowly cross my arms as elegantly as possible, raising my chin a bit. I show nothing of my heart going absolutely crazy, the thoughts echoing loudly in my head.

“My apologies,” he says. “I was hoping to meet with Mr Heartgraves. Nobody was answering and the door was open…”

He definitely just made that up, I’m sure I heard him open that door. How did he force it in such a short time?

“Well, my uncle isn’t here,” I say, thankfully sounding much calmer than I am under the surface.

“Your uncle?” He frowns.

My god, the way his dark eyes are staring at me, I feel like I’m standing naked on a damn podium… A hot shiver runs down my spine, and I swallow down. I’ve never felt this hot in my whole human and vampire lives combined. Keep acting, don’t break the character…

“My name is Hera Heartgraves. And you are…?”

“…Agent Rivera.”

“Agent?” I ask, reminding myself I’m supposed to know nothing of him.

“I’m a cop.”

Yeah, except that you are a New York City Cop, not a London one. But then again, Hera is not supposed to know that… Shit, how do I keep doing this? Bart, you ass! I’m sure he just ran next door to hide and is listening to all this.

“What does a cop want with my uncle?”

“I don’t have to disclose that information to you, Miss Heartgraves.”

“You’re the one who trespassed.”

He seems to hesitate a little, glance around, and then suddenly goes back to me, tilting his head a little.

“…Do I know you?”

For half a second, I flinch. He could not have recognized me, he just couldn’t have. No way… In a sudden, genius split-second thinking, I point at my gigantic portrait on the wall.

“I am a model, Agent Rivera. Not that famous yet, but you might have seen me on some magazine cover.”

I have to pat myself on the back for that one. The not-so-humble bragging would have never been a thing of June’s… Rick glances at the portrait quickly while I try hard to decipher his expression. Yeah, he’s confused. Definitely confused. Does he have doubts, then? He’s scrutinizing that portrait for longer than I thought, going back and forth to the actual me. I don’t look like June, right? Perhaps I really dreamt that earlier…

“…Perhaps,” he mutters, not sounding convinced at all. “Are you familiar with Charles Williams? He seems to be a new client of your uncle.”

“How would you know that?”

“I just saw him leave this place.”

“Then you should have seen my uncle leaving with him.”

“I don’t know what Mr Heartgraves looks like. I assumed he was part of Mr Williams’ staff.”

Shit, it’s actually believable… Except that he probably caught on who Swithin is, Rick is far from being some idiot. No wonder he became a cop, he’s always had the intuition of a German Shepherd… And I can still tell when he’s lying too. I let out a faint sigh. What now? This is embarrassing.

about you?” He

“…Excuse me?”

odd you’re in your uncle’s office when he’s not

from this portrait of me, he doesn’t exactly hate me either. I’m waiting for

both wait for

Shouldn’t have said that. The worst part is that I can hear stupid Bart giggling secretly from the other side of Swithin’s resting room, the bastard. I glance around, trying to find something. Swithin’s not coming back, but I can still use that time and face Rick to dissuade him from sniffing that trail or something. Not that I don’t want to just keep chatting with him casually… This whole

your relationship with Mr

obligation to tell

me, so you would

talk to him again as if nothing happened between us, and being horribly disappointed that things are like this. A selfish part of me wishes he knew, wishes I could tell him everything, and apologize for what I did. Of course, I’m also terrified, and

Williams is a suspect in an investigation I’m currently working on. I need

of investigation?”

“…That’s confidential too.”

not giving

before? It’s strange you’re trying to see my uncle now, when Mr Williams was here just

“I had bad timing.”

Rick. I glance at the window. How long until Lancelot comes in? I’m suffocating here… I try to think of something, anything that I could distract him with. No, actually, I should probably have him leave. I turn around, and pretend to go and get my phone from behind Swithin’s desk, where he can’t see my hands

uncle won’t be back for a while,” I lie, pretending to read

with Mr

does Rick probably already have some suspicions, but maybe he’s looking for proof Charles killed me, too. I smile, careful to keep my fangs hidden behind my lips, and move around the desk to sit on its front, showing off my long legs. Rick can’t help

What could Mr Williams have done that you need to interrogate

seems to give

he need your uncle’s

question first?” I hiss, a

“I’m the cop here.”

far as I know. So, let’s make a deal. If you answer my questions, I’ll happily answer yours. I heard everything Mr Williams and my uncle told

are you doing,” whispers Bart, not happy with

help, he can step out and get me out of this mess instead of hiding. I pretend I heard nothing, and neither did Rick, obviously. He’s busy thinking. Damn, he’s doing that thing where he rubs his stubble with his index finger when he’s thinking… I can’t believe he kept that habit after all these years; I always found it quite cute. I want to touch

hell no, no, no, girl, keep the fangs in check. I push my sunglasses back up on my nose, hoping I can hide the horrible hunger that’s surging. Worse, Rick’s still staring at me, and I try to keep my eyes on him, but I subconsciously leave my eyes to go down on his body, guessing the new lines

thinking. “I’m

was a suicide. The

on Rick, tell me what you’re really trying to

report the truth,” he retorts right away. “They say what they are told to. I believe there are some loopholes

“What loopholes then?”

grimaces, but we both know it’s my turn to ask a

sense,” he grimaces. “His fiancé was diagnosed with heavy depression but she was left alone for a long time. How long it took for him to find her. How he never even tried to

try to

wait, I didn’t even have a phone, so it doesn’t

continues. “Aside from depression, many things could

cop now, why the fuck did he follow Charles all the way here? Why not simply summon him

duty as a cop, he’s here because this is about… me. I gasp internally. Shit, this is all so much worse. He’s

trace of them knowing each other before he came to London.

trying to act composed and uninterested. “She had a

“…Her husband?” He grimaces.

be a bad thing for Rick to look into this too.

“…She wouldn’t have actually…”

a second, he doesn’t actually believe I agreed to it? For fuck’s sake, Rick! …Shit, how do I let

you sure?”