The Dark Secret of the CEO by Sofia de Orellana

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.

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.”