Chapter 3 #2
"You sound just like father." He rebutted. I could sense the frustration in his tone at my vagueness.
"And you sound like a fool." I laughed a well-deserved laugh.
"It’s only a matter of time before she starts asking questions you know."
"Tell me something Ion already know. Everyone knows why she’s here. It’s no secret she’s here seeking answers. Let her snoop…let her ask.”
"You need to do something about it. You know that's not what father wants.”
“You need to not concern yourself with what I need to be doing. You should have enough on your plate as is.”
“It sounds like you don’t have a plan, when you really should be focused on trying to stay ten steps ahead."
Of course, our father August Dubois wanted no parts of Noa returning, if it was up to him, he preferred obedience, silence and most importantly control.
Yet unfortunately for him, Noa Sinclair was the daughter of two people that just so happened to be incapable of minding their own business, which resulted in why they were dealt with the hand and fate they got.
"We both know that he doesn't decide everything." I responded not addressing him insinuating that I was unprepared. I never had to prepare because I stayed ready and I wasn’t one to prove my position cause if you know you know.
Solomon's eyes deepened while his statement hung silently between us because that was a dangerous truth.
Taking a look out of my office window that faced the cemetery, I could see the crowd beginning to move toward it as the senator's casket rolled forward before them.
His casket signified another life that was boxed up.
It was another secret that was about to be buried six feet underground.
Solomon shoved his hands into his pockets. "You say that all the time. Well now lil bro, it’s time for you to prove it."
He walked away in a huff leaving my office door open and I watched him disappear into the crowd.
Once he blended in with the crowd I turned back toward the window and watched all the umbrellas as the mourners were escorted through the rain.
Each service always moved exactly the same, the only difference was the body that was laid in each casket.
For generations and centuries this place functioned like a well ran machine. Very predictable, very controlled.
Opening the bottom drawer on my cherry wood desk, I pushed the files that were hanging to the back and at the bottom of the drawer I picked up the black folder labeled Sinclair.
Opening it I glanced over the old newspaper clipping of the funeral announcement for Isaiah Sinclair’s death and an old photo of Celeste while she was pregnant with Noa before she left town.
There were even some pictures of Noa that I was able to get throughout the years.
Then my mind drifted back to Noa, as I thought about all the secrets, much more than she could possibly imagine that she would soon uncover one by one now that she was here.
This was where she belonged all along, her mother should’ve never left.
But it was cool because now she was back to where everything began.
Unbeknownst to her Magnolia Graves had been waiting and anticipating as patiently as possible for her return long before she was born and ever learned anything of its name.
And what was an unexpected and unsettling feeling was that for the first time in years, I wasn't sure whether I wanted to protect her from the truth or help her uncover it.
One thing that I knew was for certain was I planned on watching what was to happen once she found everything out.
Once the burial was over, I made sure the grounds covering the Senator’s casket were secure being that it had rained most of the day.
Georgia’s red dirt was more like clay and when it rained like it had today, it was quite the job, but I didn’t trust anyone else to do it.
Once done, I left the grounds and headed to the countryside, to an area of land that I owned, that was far from the city limits and ducked off deep into the marsh.
It was acres upon acres of land with one old antebellum styled plantation home that I rehabbed into my sanctuary.
From the road you wouldn’t even know that the house was there because it was covered by Georgia pines and live oaks.
It was surrounded by marsh land and not too far from the Magnolia River.
From the city it took a good two hours to get to, and I loved that it was far and ducked off from civilization.
Very few people knew about this place, except for the ones that had been around for the longest and the previous owners. My family knew of it but didn’t even know that I had acquired it and I had my reasons why I kept it secret from everyone.
As I drove down the long, back road that led to the front door, I could feel my energy shifting.
This was the only place on the map where I could truly be myself and not have to worry about anyone interrupting me.
I parked in the three-car garage then headed inside the house with a swiftness I couldn’t contain.
The typical antebellum mansions had between four to six bedrooms, mine had eight.
Each room had a different theme and all of the themes throughout the house were dark.
Currently, only three of the rooms were being occupied by three different women that were not from Magnolia but the next town over, Clarksdale County.
Belle, Rae and Jemma is what they were once called, now they were simply referred to by the color of the room they occupied.
Each room was connected to a kitchenette-style room where they could prepare simply meals for themselves so that they could maintain their weight and strength and a bathroom so that they could keep up with their hygiene.
Anyone that I ever brought to this house came on a consensual basis, they had to sign NDA’s, and it gave them a better life, yet it was just different than what they were accustomed to before they came to stay here.
All of them were either in the clubs, a brothel or being misused for their bodies, and even though I was only using them for their bodies as well, I also provided them with a lifestyle that they never would’ve been able to attain on their own.
The only rule was they could never leave the house, never have access to anyone outside of the house, and if any of them got pregnant they couldn’t keep their babies.
They all knew their roles and knew them well, which was to do as I wanted on a sexual basis.
Growing up under the harsh hand of August Dubois and having to be a part of things as a child that I had no choice on whether I wanted to partake in or not caused me to develop a severe case of sexual sadism that I managed and treated on my own.
This house was my treatment playground, and those three women fulfilled any sexual desire I had.
I could do whatever I wanted to them sexually and in return they knew how to satisfy my dark desires.
I couldn’t risk them having access to the outside world because this was a part of me that no one knew about…not even my family. And I intended on keeping it that way.