Chapter 16
GAbrIELA
By the time Friday approaches, I’m full of anxious energy.
I’m excited for the manor, but I’m also nervous.
It will be the first time I see Eros since Romeo kissed me, and I just hope I can find a way to keep him from infiltrating my mind the entire night.
There’s also the small matter of the looming wedding planning and dance session with Riccardo tomorrow. I’m dreading it, but trying not to think about it.
For now, my more pressing concern is talking to Julian. I’ve been trying to figure out the best way to go about it, and when I finally approach him after school, he arches a brow at me.
“Can I help you with something, Miss Bianchi?”
Guilt knots my stomach as I remember the way he’s protected me.
I wasn’t sure about him initially, but he’s turned out to be a good guy.
I know a lot of women in my world feel like their guards are their wardens, but I like Julian.
I don’t want to lie to him, and I feel I owe him some loyalty after the way he covered for me with Riccardo.
“About tonight.” I twist my hands together in front of me as I rock back on my heels. “I have a thing—”
“I know,” he says. “I saw the event populate on your calendar.”
“You did?” I ask before correcting myself. “I mean, right. Of course.”
This had to be Eros’s doing. We never discussed how this would work with my guard, but I should have known he’d figure out a way around it.
The only thing I’m not sure of is if Julian is aware of what goes on at Davenport Manor.
“I’ll be ready when you are,” he assures me.
“Okay. Thank you.”
I consider asking if he knows he can’t come inside the manor, but then I think better of it. We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.
The event doesn’t start until midnight, so I spend part of the night working on my senior collection.
When it’s time to get ready, I relax in the bath for a while before I reapply my makeup and get dressed.
The only thing the costume didn’t come with was shoes, so I opt for a pair of Mary-Jane flats. They’re comfortable, and they’ll be easier to run in than anything dressier.
Just before we’re due to leave, I slip on a long white faux-fur coat that’s probably a little heavier than I need, but I only plan to wear it until I get there.
At eleven-thirty, I meet Julian in the main entry and glance at Beppe, wondering what the best course of action is. I don’t like him being home alone if I can help it, and Julian knows it.
Sensing my thoughts, he makes the decision for me.
“He can come with us for the ride, Miss Bianchi. I’ll bring him back to the penthouse with me after we drop you off.”
I stare at him for a beat too long, wondering what exactly Eros did here.
It would require permission from Michael to leave me alone at an event. But considering I’m pretty sure it was Eros who texted Abella, and she thought it was actually me, it’s a safe assumption he did something similar with Julian.
“Miss Bianchi?” he prompts me. “Do you need his tote bag?”
“Oh, right.”
We get Beppe settled in, and a few minutes later, we set off for Davenport Manor.
The drive is quiet, and I spend the entirety of it petting Beppe to diffuse some of my anxious energy.
By the time we arrive, I feel calm and ready for the night ahead.
When we pull up to the entrance, Julian opens the door for me, and I give Beppe a quick cuddle before handing him over.
Julian waits until I’m at the gate where the attendants are collecting invitations, then he drives off.
A small thrill shoots through me as I think about having an entire night without any supervision. I’ll be completely on my own until Eros finds and captures me.
“Welcome to Davenport Manor After Dark.” A female attendant wearing a masquerade mask greets me with a smile. “Invitation?”
As I’m handing it over, another woman joins the attendants with two drinks in her hands, pausing when she lifts her gaze to mine.
For a moment, we stare at each other, and I take in the few visible features I can see.
She’s wearing a black costume dress with a mermaid silhouette, so I don’t think she’s an attendant. Her black hair is straightened like Morticia Addams, and a lace face mask obscures most of her identity, except for her blood-red lips.
There’s a chance she could be Chantel’s doppelganger, but judging by the way she stopped when she saw me, I doubt it.
Neither of us says a word, because we aren’t supposed to. Anonymity is the whole point. But she gives me the briefest dip of her head before her lips curve into a smile. Then, as if it didn’t happen, she sets the drinks on the table for the women, and one of the attendants gestures for me.
“Please come this way.”
As we wind our way along the lantern-lit footpath, I take in the property.
I’ve never been inside the gates before, and seeing it now, it’s even better than what I imagined.
The gothic manor looms in the distance, rising out of the darkness and fog that has settled over the night.
The windows are shuttered, preserving the manor’s secrets and what’s currently taking place inside.
On the exterior, ivy climbs up the walls, growing dormant for the winter, but still clinging to the last glimpse of life before the cold fully sets in.
Carnival music drifts from the other half of the property, punctuated by the occasional laugh or scream.
From my vantage point, I can see some of the rides, including a carousel, a small roller coaster, and a chain swing.
There’s also what appears to be a Ferris wheel, but instead of the normal seats, it holds cages with bars.
When I get a closer look, I can see that they have velvet drapes, some of which are open and others closed.
As it makes a slow, creaking rotation, one of the open cages comes into view, and I get a glimpse of a man taking a woman from behind.
The sight startles me, even though I knew I’d see plenty of debauchery tonight.
It feels a little depraved to witness something so intimate on display, but I can’t seem to drag my eyes away.
I’m so transfixed on the sight, I almost run right into someone else walking the opposite direction along the path.
The attendant gives me a little smile, as if to say it happens all the time.
As we approach the manor, the large double doors with wrought-iron knockers come into view. They’re both closed, but it doesn’t blunt the noise coming from inside. A darker, more deranged soundtrack vibrates through the walls, along with pounding footsteps and occasional shrieks.
This combination seems like it should be a sensory nightmare, but oddly enough, it’s never bothered me unless I’m already at my threshold or close to it.
I’ve always loved fairs and carnivals, and before Romeo’s lightning strike, we used to go together every year.
It’s been so long since I’ve attended one, I wasn’t sure if it would trigger something in me, but I’m relieved that it hasn’t. Everything is so much different here than it was that day, and I know the inside won’t be like anything else I’ve ever experienced.
As we near the doors, two bronzed statues flank the footpath, and I don’t pay them much attention until they come to life and jump out at me.
A scream bubbles up my throat, followed by a laugh when I see the two men smile before they step back into their roles. They look so real, it’s a little freaky.
The attendant opens the door for me, and we step inside what appears to be a cloak room.
“You can leave your coat here if you like.” She gestures at the hooks along the wall. “Do you remember your claim signals?”
“Yes.”
She produces a band I didn’t even notice she was carrying and asks for my wrist. I let her slip it on, and she adjusts it until it’s secure but not too tight.
“If you need assistance or you would like to stop participation for any reason, this sends an alert to our staff. We’ll be able to locate you if you press the button.”
“Okay.” I nod.
I’m expecting her to go over some more rules, but instead, she gestures at the small curtain-lined doorway leading deeper into the house.
“Enjoy your evening.”
With that, she takes her leave, and I draw a breath as I hang my coat and prepare myself.
I pass through the curtain, and it falls shut behind me, plunging the hallway into total darkness.
A chill shoots up my spine as I wonder how Eros will know I’m here, or where to find me. But I suppose that’s the entire point.
The floorboards creak beneath my feet as I use my hand to guide myself along the wall until I reach another door. I fumble around for the knob, a familiar but unnerving melody filtering through the barrier. It sounds like dark circus music.
As I open the door and light floods my eyes, I spill into a mirrored labyrinth.
The sight of it pulls me back to another time and place, when Romeo chased me through the hall of mirrors at the fair.
He caught me and pressed me up against the wall, staring at my lips like he couldn’t decide whether to kiss me or keep terrorizing me.
That day rewired my brain, linking fear and reward.
Since then, his face has been the one I imagined behind every mask in the horror movies I watched. It threaded that dark desire through my veins and unleashed a craving for fear.
I wanted to be hunted down, captured, and dominated by the villain. I wanted him to spare me from his wrath because his hunger for me was greater than his innate blood thirst.
Just as I’d told Eros, I wanted to be the exception.
As I begin to wind my way through the mirrored walls, the heavy sound of footsteps startles me. But when I turn around, nobody is there.
I pause for a moment as the lights flicker above me before the creak of a door hinge activates my flight response. It propels me forward, driving me to make split-second decisions as I run through the maze, choosing from diverging paths without any real logic.