SNEAK PEEK of Ivory
W hen I was three years old, I met the devil.
I didn’t know it at the time… Turns out, everything they say about him is true.
He hides quite well in plain sight.
But he doesn’t blend into the background. No, that wouldn’t work. It would be impossible not to see him. Instead, he lures you in, flatters, manipulates and comforts, giving the illusion of loyalty.
He’s very good at what he does.
El diablo esta astuto.
He had woven himself into the fibers of my family. Earned their trust, and he did it well. He was good… And my father was weak.
In the end, though, a debt must be paid. That is what I learned as a child, as I cowered and sniffled, hand clasped tightly over my mouth to keep quiet. Eyes wide with terror.
I saw evil that day, and it looked right at me. It saw me.
Yet I was spared. I wasn’t taken… Not then , anyway.
I hate to admit it, but I learned a lot from him; el diablo.
And anything he didn’t teach me, I learned because of him.
One way or another, he is responsible for so much of what my life has become.
Whether that’s good or bad remains to be seen, but I prefer not to give him the satisfaction of thinking he molded me…
I’m sure he’d love that all too much.
For now, I will focus on the things I’ve done for myself , what I’ve discovered, and how hard I’ve trained. How diligently I’ve worked over the years… It’s been my sole motivation for so long, I can barely remember a life outside of him .
I hate it.
That’s good. I need to hate. I need to loathe, and remember why . Because sometimes it’s easy to forget… When he’s close.
Teeth clamping together, I close my eyes, taking in a deep breath. Reminding myself to be in the present. Not to dwell so much on the things I can’t change. It’s difficult for me… Life is difficult, and it has been since I was just a boy who lost his parents. Forced to grow up way too fast…
Again, because of him.
The ocean breeze brushes through my hair, and I let it settle me. The smell of the saltwater and the mist of it touching my skin. When I reopen my eyes, I see it. We’re close…
I glance over myself, my body in this outfit. My hands run down the silken fabric, and I buzz inside.
I bite my lip.
“Hey,” a sultry male voice comes from behind me and I startle, tipping my chin. “Are you new? I haven’t seen you before.”
Swallowing hard, I attempt to calm my instant nerves, and nod. “I am.”
He’s very good-looking, in a fair, yet defined way, like me. Though his skin is pale, and his hair is platinum blonde. A face of all sharp angles, in contrast to his full pink lips. He looks like a model.
I’m instantly insecure.
But then he smiles, a dazzling thing, though it’s kind, like his deep green eyes. “I always love meeting a newbie. I’m Soren.”
“Ari,” I try not to stammer. I’ve practiced this dozens of times, but it’s still overwhelming… Actually being here, so close.
“You’re, like, way too pretty.” He pouts playfully. “I’m not sure if standing next to you will make me look better by association, or worse by comparison.”
I have to snort at that.
Soren leans up against the railing, facing me rather than the view from the top deck. “So what brings you here?”
Revenge.
“I like to party, and I need the money,” I serve him my rehearsed answer. “What else?”
He chuckles. It’s a great sound; melodious and sweet. I think I like him.
“You’re cute, Ari.” He tilts his head. “Stick with me. I’ll show you the ropes.” He winks, and I think my cheeks are warming.
But I don’t have time to obsess over it, because we’re about to dock.
We’ve arrived… At Alabaster Isle.
“Come on.” Soren takes me by the arm, guiding me to the stairs.
Okay… I guess we’re besties.
I’m not mad at it. I could certainly use a friend. Especially one who knows the ropes…
We disembark; myself, Soren, and a group of eleven others, by my count. Not including the staff—two large, quiet men who have been instructing us on where to go and what to do.
They’re the ones who explained the rules, and handed out the NDA’s for us to sign. None of it was a surprise to me. I knew what to expect going in. After all, this has been the plan for quite some time.
The rules are simple… No phones. No talking about the island. No leaving the left side of the mansion. That’s the one I might have to break…
We’re here purely for entertainment purposes, and we aren’t allowed to leave until the ferry goes back to the mainland on Sunday. Not that we’d have any other way to get off the island…
The group of us are ushered into a few black SUV’s, and driven up the coast of the island. And all the while, my pulse is steadily increasing, with every inch we cruise closer to the giant palace of alabaster elegance.
The closer we get to…
My fingers roll the material of my dress between my fingers as I shift subtly in the soft leather seat.
I still can’t tell if I’m comfortable or not, and it’s bothering me.
I don’t like not being able to identify my feelings—something he’s a true master at weaving in people.
El diablo, he has this magnetic force when he’s nearby that frays confidence and breeds uncertainty.
Just one of his many powers.
“Relax,” Soren whispers to me, noting my fidgets, which naturally makes me even more self-conscious. “You’ll do fine. Velle will love you. And if you’re in with him, you won’t have to worry about anything else.”
My stomach twists into an even tighter knot. I don’t want my new friend to think I’m unappreciative of his camaraderie, so I nod and offer him a grateful smile. But his pep talk is only making me more nervous.
Yes , I know about John Chevelle. And I would stand to agree that getting in his good graces will be helpful…
But is he… too close? If he is, it might be difficult…
That’s the question I’ll need to find an answer to.
The vehicle comes to a stop, and we all file out. The sun is just setting, casting a pale orange glow over the scenery. Ocean on one side, forest on the other. It’s truly quite breathtaking, but the thing that steals every ounce of oxygen from my lungs is what’s towering before me…
The Ivory Mansion.
“Diablo…” I whisper, eyes wide, chest caving.
“What’s that, sweetie?” Soren asks, and I shake myself out of it.
“N-nothing,” I stutter. “This place is…”
“Yea, it’s massive,” he chuckles. “Sorta creepy inside, but you get used to it.”
He takes me by the hand, tugging me along with the rest of them as the security team brings us all inside through the front. Double-doors, large, black, with brushed brass fixtures. On the way inside, I sneak a peek at the ornate door knocker… In the shape of a birdcage.
I swallow a jagged lump in my throat.
“Huyes de tu jaula, pajarito…”
Once inside, we’re immediately guided left, toward a large staircase. But my eyes are coveting the right. The side of the mansion we’re not allowed to enter…
Still, I’m becoming distracted by the sheer size of this place. All of the research in the world couldn’t have prepared me for what it would actually be like…
From the decor, to how big it all is; opulent, regal grandeur with an underlying sense of malevolence. To the naked eye, it’s luxurious and majestic. But the immorality is palpable, and my heart is instantly racing, almost too fast.
This is him. I feel it in the air, in every square inch of this monstrosity.
What have you created here, diablo?
What did you do…
“Dios… ayúdame,” I mumble under my breathe.
At the top of the stairs, the security team spouts off a warning for us to remember the rules, but no one seems to be listening to them.
I think I’m the only one who’s new here, because the moment we reach the third floor, they all scatter, as if they’re familiar enough with the place to know where they want to go.
I’m left slowly wandering the long corridor, following Soren— sort of —but getting lost in studying everything.
My eyes scan floor to ceiling, taking in the ambience of dimmed light from lantern sconces, accentuating the deep red paint with the occasional black accent, erotic artwork, brass and bronze fixtures…
Baroque, and beautiful in its own very ominous way.
It’s ridiculously familiar, and I have to scoff to myself for a moment.
Would you look at that? I’m back at the house in Bogotá…
Voices ring out from up the hall as music begins to play, soft at first, until someone cranks the volume.
“Ari!”
I’m lingering outside of a bedroom whose door is ajar, peering inside. No one’s in there, but it’s pretty big.
“Hey, Ari!”
People are cheering in the distance. I suppose the party is getting started right away. Makes sense.
I’m about to push the door open a bit more when someone grabs me, and I flinch. “Uh, Earth to Ari,” Soren chuckles. “I’ve been calling you…”
I gulp and blink. “Sorry…”
Get used to the name, Angel… You picked it.
“Come on, party favors are out.” He grins, yanking me up the hall, where I’m assuming everyone is gathered to begin their evening with alcohol and drugs.
Fluttering nerves encompass me. Blend in… Be a chameleon. It’s the only way.
“I, uh… is there a… restroom I can use?” I ask him, pumping on the breaks.
Soren is distracted by a guy setting up lines on a bronze tray as he motions with his hand. “Yea, door on the end.”
I locate the bathroom, slinking inside and locking the door. After I triple-check that it’s definitely locked, I can breathe a bit easier. I step up to the vanity and assess myself in the mirror.
Combing fingers through my hair, I blink at my reflection. The person staring back at me… I smooth out my dress and adjust myself.
I look like her…
It’s good. This is by no means the first time I’ve done this, but it still always shocks me. How easily I can look like her when I want to. How much this settles me sometimes…
I wish I could wrap my head around it fully, but it’s hard, because so much of what I do is wrapped up in anger… And vengeance.