My Unwanted Mate

Chapter 6. Valentine Mansion

Veronica

I know I am a bad person for lying and taking my dead sister’s place, leaving her to rot on the floor of Bart Birnam’s shitty apartment. I know there is a special place in hell for people like me and the reasons why I did it are irrelevant. I don’t know why I did what I did and now it is too late to go back.

Just like this morning when I missed every possible opportunity to walk away, my legs lead me on their own out of Victor’s SUV and towards the gorgeous grey-haired woman who waits on the front staircase for me. For Geneva. Is it hypocritical that I feel bad for her because she lost her grand daughter and will never know about it? Probably. But it is too late now to go back. Too late, my mind repeats with every step I take.

I stop in front of the woman, Genevieve, my grandmother, and just stand there staring at her, not knowing what to say or do.

For some reason I feel way more nervous than I did when I met Victor. I don’t know whether it is because of the way she looks at me, with grey eyes that seem both kind and hard, or because of her royally raised head. She intimidates me and I am not used to this kind of intimidation. Bart scares the living s*hit out of me, yes, but I know him, I know what to expect from him after all this time. He is blunt, a scary monster hiding behind the door of my room, but he is predictable. I don’t know Genevieve Valentine though. What kind of vicious is she?

I climb the stairs and stand in front of her, deciding not to be afraid. This is my grandmother after all, and no matter how distant she seems, that blood relation we hold must count for something. Not to mention that she believes I am Geneva. Geneva talked so fondly of her, so how could she be evil?

“Geneva,” she says officially, head raised high as suiting for a real queen, “are you alright?”

I blink like an i***t. “Yeah… yeah, I’m fine.”

Suddenly Genevieve breaks out of her mask. Her lips quit a little and she pulls me into a bear hug, so tight it almost smashes my ribs. “Baby, please don’t ever do anything like that again…” she whispers in my ear and for some reason I don’t like it. “Just because we had a disagreement it doesn’t mean I don’t love you. You are my whole world, Geneva. You and Victor are all I have left of your father…”

The cold chills run down my spine. Everything inside me wants to scream. What about me, Genevieve? What about Veronica, who you left alone to fight with the real monsters?

“I am fine,” I repeat dryly and make a step back. Suddenly her grip on my shoulders is too much. It burns through the thick fabric of the fancy jacket I wear. I look away, shivering.

“Fine?” Genevieve asks with a raised brow, then her gaze becomes cold as she purses her lips watching me as if I deserve to drown or something. “Good, then you are grounded,” she says with a firm tone, signalling she won’t take any arguments about it.

I steal a look at Victor who just smirks with a look that says ‘told you so’ and barely contains his laughter.

“What the hell were you thinking, Geneva?” Genevieve continues, and she does look angry now. The pearls around her neck click in the silent night and send cold shivers down my spine. “To go to these gipsies of all people and then just…just vanish?”

“Gipsies?” I repeat desperate, feeling like a total i***t. Geneva didn’t say anything about that. Not that it matters, but still…

“Have you forgotten all I was teaching you? The gipsy wolves are not your friends. Stay away, they are dangerous, and… they are not good people.”

I am staring at her now. Her grey eyes are wide with anger and… disgust, and she does not seem happy with me, or said gipsy wolves. The werewolves we should avoid? I am not sure if I want to know what she means exactly, the things she implies don’t sit well with me, but it is not like I have much of a choice or room to argue. I have no idea what is going on and one wrong word might bring me to my doom. So I just shrug helplessly.

“Get to your room now,” Genevieve orders me and steps away to let me walk towards the house. “No phone and you are not going to the bonfire on Friday!” She adds.

I am at a loss of words. It’s not like I can tell her I want nothing to do with bonfires or Geneva’s phone. Still, I’ve got bigger problems right now - I don’t know where Geneva’s room is. I don’t know my way around the house at all. What is more, I have never been in such a large fancy home before, so how can I have any idea what is where?

Still, I walk through the threshold. Genevieve clicks her tongue and makes me freeze in place.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” She asks with her commanding tone and raises her hand towards me. For a moment I don’t get what she means. She rushes me moving her fingers as if to remind me and I finally connect the dots. I fish the phone out of my jacket’s pocket and pass it to her. Behind us Victor lets out an amused snort, but doesn’t say a word.

“Can I go now?” I ask with sudden irritation. My tone has nothing to do with the usual way I speak with people, but my nerves are on the verge of snapping and I can’t control myself. I either bark at my ‘beloved’ grandma, or fall to my trembling knees and confess everything. Either way I am done for.

“Watch your tone, young lady,” Genevieve scolds me. The tiny cracks in her perfectly controlled demeanour, like her flared nostrils and her wide eyes tell me she is mad at Geneva, and barely controls her temper.

As I don’t say anything, she just waits. I give in. I’ve never been good at a staring game and suddenly the thought that she might snap and yell, or hit me, makes my mind freeze. My broken brain turns to survival mode and I whimper, looking away. Genevieve takes this as a victory, maybe the first she had over her real granddaughter, because she finally waves me off and lets me go inside.

My heart beats like a drum as I finally enter the place I am about to call home from now on. The entry is as big as my old room in Bart’s apartment and everywhere I look I see marble, and gold and crystal. The air smells of fresh citruses and some delicate perfume and it is all so different than what I am used to.

I head towards the hallway where I see a large chandelier hanging over my head. It seems huge and intimidating and for some reason I can’t take my eyes away from the sharp crystal spikes, having the haunting feeling that they might fall any moment now and stab me to death. It’s not like I don’t deserve it.

Ignoring the stupid thoughts, I steal a glance at each direction, relieved there is no one around. I turn towards the large staircase, hoping to explore a little and maybe guess which might be Geneva’s room by checking each of them. For some reason I imagine pink walls and curtains, which is dumb, but I can’t help it. I am intimidated with this place and the large amount of rooms I imagine it has. I feel almost discouraged as fear creeps back inside my chest when I take the first step.

“Hey, Gen!” A guy calls my sister’s name from behind me. I sigh and close my eyes counting to three before I turn to face him.

The stranger seems friendly. He doesn’t look much older than Victor, yet he is more relaxed, and his gleaming dark eyes seem like he never stops smiling. He is handsome in a convenient, not overwhelming way, despite the fact that he seems more ripped even than Victor, under that tight shirt of his. I am not used to people smiling at me though, so I return the smile hesitantly, not knowing where to look, again.

“H-hey,” I mumble reaching for my neck in a nervous gesture as I have no idea what to do with my hands. I certainly don’t dare touching the perfectly clean shiny ivory railing that looks like a piece of art, as I realise my nails are not polished and perfect like Geneva’s. What if someone notices?

“You look like s*hit,” he says. “Did you have fun?”

What am I supposed to reply to that. A sting of pain pierces my chest as I try to blink away the sudden urge to cry.

“I… did, I guess?” I mumble like an i***t and try for another forced smile.

The stranger makes a few steps towards me and tucking his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, leans over the railing. I glance at him underneath my eyelashes and notice his hair reaches his shoulders in soft brown waves. The mischievous glint doesn’t leave his chestnut dark eyes for even a second.

“I hope it was worth it getting caught and being dragged back here like a pariah. Did Moretti give you any trouble?”

Moretti. That name again. The man w*hore Dragon guy?

“N-no?” I shrug, hoping he will get off my tale. Then I decide to add something else, just for good measure as I look at him. “Anyway, it was stupid. Just lost my time… and my phone, so, not worth it.”

“Poor Genie, how are you going to live without your phone and your parties now?” The guy mocks with pouted lips as I try to remember if Geneva showed him to me on her phone. Then it clicks. I have seen him. He was on a picture with her near a pool this summer. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt and sun glasses, seeping a neon purple cocktail and smiling like an i***t as she was trying to fish it out of his hands. She said he was Victor’s best friend… his beta? Adrien.

I narrow my eyes at him. “You seem smug about it.”

“I just like it when I am right,” Adrien sighs and seems like he is really concern. “I told you going to the werewolves of all people for help is a bad idea. That guy Moretti is… he is worse than the most of their lot. Just the fact that he is next in line to willingly turn into such an abomination? I wonder why he hasn’t been bitten yet though… Do you promise to stay away now?”

I blink like an i***t. The longer I spend with these people, the more confident I am that they believe in all this nonsense. Maybe what they say is the truth, no matter how weird it is. But the way they speak of these werewolves makes the hair on my neck stand with horror. Every one of them despises said werewolves and doesn’t even try to hide it. Then why did Geneva go to them for help? And what the hell does it mean that Moretti guy everyone is so interested in hasn’t been bitten yet? Like, do werewolves get bitten and turn into ones on purpose? To what accord?

“Why are you staring like this?” Adrien asks with a raised eyebrow. “You sure everything is fine? Should I go beat the s*hit out of Luca Moretti right now? He is still human too, so I’ll get a few extra kicks, just for sports.”

The thought of this makes me shiver with disgust. I have no idea how I manage to keep a straight face and not start shaking, my mind clouded with memories of yelling, and screams, and the sound of a leather belt burning my skin. “It’s all good.” I say defeated. “I am just mad I lost my time for nothing. Only dead ends. I am heading to my room now.”

I turn and almost run the stairs up, taking two at a time, hoping he won’t follow. I open the first door I see, and find myself in a dark room, but it seems unoccupied by anyone, so I decide it can’t be Geneva’s - it is too impersonal. Following my plan I check a few other rooms, avoiding the ones I see light seeping beneath the doors, until I reach the end of the corridor on the second floor.

Desperate, I turn left to the next corridor, almost bumping into someone on my way.

“Genie, are you alright?” The elder woman, carrying a stack of towels asks, her eyes wide with surprise.

“I, um…” I start, unable to find a logical excuse as of why I can’t find my way around my own supposed house. “Of course, all fine.”

“I heard the madam yelling…” she says hesitantly as she studies my face. She must’ve read the worry there because she smiles warmly at me and reaches to pat my shoulder. “Good thing you are back though.”

I smile, because I don’t know what else to say. All these people make such a big deal of Geneva sneaking out and wanting to find her lost family. They make it sound like she was some guarded princess hidden behind the walls of a royal castle.

“Yeah, thanks. It was stupid anyway,” I reply with a faint smile. In the dim light of the corridor she looks kind and friendly, and for some reason it draws me to her immediately, just like it happened with Victor, and Adrien. Yeah, I am a sucker for kindness, not so surprising having in mind the life I’ve led.

“Go get some rest now, I just left clean towels in your room,” the older woman says and her round face lights up. “You have a big day tomorrow, your birthday, and then school and all. It will be perfect, I am sure.”

My heartbeat quickens at her words. My mind flies back to the image of Geneva lying on that floor in the pool of her own blood unable. It is glued to my mind and I am sure I will never, ever forget it till the rest of my life.

I smile to the woman whose name I can’t dig out of my brain, and go down the corridor, now that she confirmed she came out of my sister’s room.

It turns to be the first room behind her and I know, because there is a sign on the door - Genie’s territory, keep out. Thank god for her quirkiness, I guess.

The faint light from the night lamp casts soft shadows all over the place, which is not pink at all. Not that I have time to explore as somebody grabs me and covers my mouth with his large tanned hand, his grip so firm I can’t even move.