Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
“Everything in our life is a choice.
However, the choices we make depend on the traumas we’ve experienced in the past.
And if our traumas rule our subconsciousness…is there an escape from a nightmare that’s your own mind?”
Lavender
Lavender
A long, drawn-out sigh slips past my lips as Gordon parks the car by the massive gates and rolls down the window, greeting one of the young security guards wearing all black, who nods at us. “Hello, Miss Wright.”
The Scotts have guards posted at their mansion as if it were a royal residence. All things considered, they might as well be.
“Hi. How are you, Kenny?”
“I’m good, ma’am. Glad to see you again. Everyone is waiting inside.”
Fear travels down my spine, and my hold on my phone tightens, making me read the message flashing on the screen once again.
Your brothers received my complaint. They need to give us an answer by Monday, or we shall proceed with the lawsuit.
I thought I’d have more time to prepare for this conversation and their tempers, which will for sure blow up in my face, and I didn’t want to see them for the first time during the Scotts’ family dinner.
The past few days, I’ve successfully avoided my family, focusing on my studies or at least pretending to.
When, in fact, I hid in the library, keeping my back to the wall all the time, expecting Levi to pop up and do something dangerous.
The familiar tremor now rushes through my system, and I fist the skirt of my dress, begging my galloping heart to calm down because I should never have this strong of a reaction to someone who almost strangled me.
Dr. King once said I might not find older men attractive because authoritarian older men ruined my life due to their greed and perverted desires.
I never got the chance to date anyone my own age, and, experience-wise, I’m miles behind the men in their thirties, so I might find younger men more suitable for me.
According to her, it might be easier for me to connect with them or even relate to their struggles.
I don’t think she meant for me to lust after a twenty-year-old guy who hates me and puts his hands on me, though.
Kenny whistles to another security guard. “Joe, open the gates.” They both share a handshake with Gordon. “Good to see you again, man. Come to our cubicle once you drop Miss Wright off. We have a new pool going on. You might like this one.”
“Will do.”
I shake my head, stifling back a laugh because Gordon fits right into our family for his competitive nature alone. The man loves all kinds of bets and participates in them, however small or large they might be.
“Some people might consider it a sin,” I tease him since he hides this little fact from his wife, and they’ve been married for forty years.
He chuckles. “I’ll try not to burn in church tomorrow.”
“Go ahead!” Joe shouts just as the loud screeching of the iron gates opening rings in the air.
Gordon drives onto the long, narrow driveway leading to the huge, wide, brick building spread across the massive landscape located on the outskirts of the city.
My stomach flips from the buzzing, dangerous energy enveloping me from head to toe, and I sit up straight, practically gluing my nose to the window as I study the unique, gorgeous architecture of the Scotts’ mansion, which has the power to mesmerize the dead.
It includes statues in arches that lure you inside, akin to the sirens trapping the fishermen in the sea, tempting you with their beauty, yet you know you’re entering dangerous territory where you might not know what you will face.
Or rather, that whatever you face here will have catastrophic consequences in the future.
It almost serves as a warning to everyone who dares to cross the borders, because Rush’s father-in-law…is a man who doesn’t take kindly to strangers entering his territory.
In fact, based on the things I’ve heard about Lachlan Scott…he’s a man who rules his empire with an iron fist, and if you ever think about going against him…you won’t live long enough to even gather a rebellion.
An underworld king of New York for a reason, whatever the hell that means. Whenever I asked Rush about it, he just changed the subject.
The two-story structure has many balconies, and most of the windows are made of stained glass, similar to those in churches.
When the sun streams through them, colorful rays must fall on the floor inside, creating a magical environment, or at least that’s what Aileen used to say when she described her family home.
I never thought anyone could have so much affection for a house since mine has been nothing but a nightmare and prison for me.
“This garden is a work of art,” Gordon mutters, pressing harder on the gas pedal, and I move to the other side to study the said garden.
After all, it’s the trickiest feature of their Victorian-style house, which reeks of luxury and power and reminds everyone of a hunting ground, according to Aileen. That’s how many twists and turns there are.
I strolled through it the first and last time I came here, running between the beauty of the endless roses and orchids blooming so wildly that the scent filled the air, making me believe I’d entered a fairy tale.
Until I got lost in the maze. The chilling weather sank cold into my bones as I wandered through the garden in desperate search of escape, finding nothing, only another turn leading me farther into the garden.
The many alcoves with benches served as my shelter when the rain started transforming the garden into something scary right away, while my heart beat wildly in my chest, the constant sounds of someone watching me growing my anxiety to epic proportions.
I must have fallen asleep at some point because when I woke up, I was inside the house, wrapped in a warm blanket, with a cup of tea waiting for me on the table in front of me.
To this day, I have no idea who found me, and since no one paid me any attention during dinner or after my disappearance, I decided not to ask so I wouldn’t ruin the family gathering.
The fact remains, though, that this garden is a trap, and I won’t set foot in it ever again.
As we drive farther onto the mansion grounds, the small, glass building in the distance comes into view, the lights still off, and I know it’s Aileen’s mother’s dance studio.
Valencia was a professional dancer and now shares her passion with the next generation all over the world, who love her dearly and sing her praises on socials during her shows and rehearsals.
“Sometimes evil is necessary to protect what we guard the most.”
Too confused and exhausted to examine Gordon’s rather out-of-the-blue statement, I just ask, “What do you mean?”
“Just thinking out loud. You’ve been jumpy during the ride, so you must be nervous.”
The cons of your driver deeming himself your adoptive grandpa so he shares random wisdom with you in order to lower your anxiety.
It’s sweet in a way, and I force a smile that will probably be gracing my lips for the next two hours. “Thank you. It’s a family dinner for the engaged couple.”
He huffs. “Let me tell you, I’m surprised your brother didn’t kidnap the girl and elope with her already. I think his patience is running thin with all the wedding preparations.”
Ah, if only he knew.
My brother might hate it, but he’ll go with whatever the Scotts want to keep the peace, which is still very tangible due to their past.
Gordon pulls the car up to the entrance, where the butler has the oak double doors wide open for me. “Looks like Joe gave them a call.”
Yeah, everything in the Scott’s mansion works like one, highly functional organism.
“I’d better go.” I pick up my small purse and the heavy box full of pastries I bought from the best bakery in town. Aileen and Emmaline always show up at my apartment with sweets, so I figured that must be their family tradition or something. Either way, I don’t want to be rude to their parents.
They deserve all my respect, considering what my brothers put them through.
Getting out, I smile at the butler running toward me and snatching the box from my arms. “Good evening, Miss Wright. Nice to see you again.” The younger man, who must be in his twenties, grins at me, and I wonder how Lachlan, who guards his mansion so well, agreed to hire someone so young for the job.
Usually, their head butlers are in their sixties, since they don’t have to do much day-to-day work and just oversee the other employees.
This guy has broad shoulders, and there is a wild look in his eyes that seems to catalog everything around him.
His long dark hair, pulled back in a bun, and the various tattoos gracing his neck and hands make him stand out among everyone else.
Not to mention I rarely see him interact with anyone besides Lachlan and Levi, giving Valencia and Aileen a wide berth, but somehow always finding time for me and getting me everything I need whenever I come here.
Like a shadow following me around.
“Likewise, Hardy.”
He salutes Gordon, who honks twice before reversing the car and driving back to the gates, while Hardy points toward the entrance, and we start walking. “Do you enjoy working at the library?”
“For now,” I reply, and then blink. “How do you know about that?”
While he’s super nice and all, I don’t make a habit of sharing my personal life with Hardy.
“Miss Scott mentioned it earlier.” His odd tone makes the familiar nervousness wash over me, and I roll my eyes at myself internally. Not everything in this world is suspicious.
“Great. I love when people talk about me.”
He chuckles just as we enter the house. “Enjoy living your life as the main character, Miss Wright.”
“I prefer a supporting role.”
“Supporting characters eventually get a book as well.” He laughs at my glare, and I still when an unreadable expression settles on his features. He straightens up, and his voice turns rougher. “I’ll take this to the kitchen.”
Another thing about Hardy?
He disappears at random after short chats.