The Dark Secret of the CEO by Sofia de Orellana

“Hey, can you drive a bit faster mate?” Bart asks the driver. “We’re in a bit of a hurry.”
This is going to complicate everything. How the hell are we supposed to swindle Charles and investigate all his crap if Rick’s
already on it? And I can’t risk exposing myself or the Heartgraves. Who knows how Rick would react to the change, too... Would
he really recognize me? Minutes ago, I would have thought it was impossible, but I still can’t doubt what my ears heard. How the
hell would he have recognized me...? I can’t wrap my head around it. I kept thinking about it for the whole trip. Our plan was to
get to Swithin’s office ahead of him, but now we’re late, and I find myself looking around, trying to spot a bike in the midst of the
cars heading to London.
Somehow, we manage not to cross paths with them, and by some miracle even arrive at Swithin’s office first. Perhaps he
purposefully took a detour. Bart walks in, and guides me through Swithin’s office. There’s a little waiting salon first, with four
chairs, a coffee table and some plants, and a little desk for a secretary that’s apparently starting later in the day. Then, we got to
his actual office. It’s surprisingly spacious, with large windows onto the street. I just have time to glance around; I find it a bit old-
fashioned with wooden floors and old stylish furniture, contrasting with the high-tech equipment and big leather desk chair, but it
suits Swithin. I can’t help but notice there’s a brand new portrait of me, way too big for comfort, right in the middle of the wall on
his right... It’s definitely one of the portraits I shot last night, but Cecily managed to make it look like it came from the official
photoshoot of a Magazine, truly professional and all. I’m amazed by how quickly they moved to have it printed, framed and hung
there overnight, but we don’t have time for questions. Bart opens a door on the side, which leads to a small room, half a resting
space and half a storage room. Every wall but the one with windows is stacked with books or papers, and there’s a Chaise
Lounge in the middle of it. Bart goes to lie on it right away, taking out his phone.
“We made it,” he says. “They are two minutes away.”
I nod, but the stress rises up again. Rick wouldn’t barge into Swithin’s office or something, right? I keep pacing around, grateful
for the carpeted floor muffling the sounds of my heels.
Soon enough, we hear them. I hear Swithin apologizing loudly for the detour or some mistake he’s made, his way of warning us.
I stop my pacing, and stand with my feet planted in front of the door instead, stressed out like crazy. I catch myself combing my
hair back at least three times before I stop and force myself to cross my arms instead. They walk in, chatting casually. Charles
sounds fucking light-hearted for someone who lost his “wife” not even a week ago... I hear the girl who was with him giggle too,
but while I do hear five pairs of footsteps, the other two remain quiet.
For a while, I listen to Swithin exchanging pleasantries with them, offering a coffee or tea, and inviting them to his office. I would
probably be much more pissed about Charles sounding so calm and composed if I wasn’t also listening for a bike’s engine

outside. And I do finally hear it. He parks about two or three streets away I’d guess, but once the engine’s cut, that’s it; I can hear
an engine but not footsteps from so far... Frustrated, I have to focus on what’s going on next door when I hear Swithin say my
new name.
“...My niece, Hera. I really love this picture of her, I had it framed against her opinion. She’s truly a talented model, as her doting
uncle I can’t help but be proud... Although, I wish she had made wiser decisions when it comes to her agency, her talent is
wasted on them. I understand you’re familiar with the Business, Mr. Williams?”
“She does look amazing, definitely some talent there, and I know the business!” Charles exclaims.
What a sucker. He only cared about the contracts, couldn’t see shit about any talent... He clearly hired some of the girls based
on their looks and his personal preferences, or let the managers handle it all.
“Right?” Sighs Swithin, playing his part perfectly. “Luckily, I’m busy representing her and trying to get this damn agency to let her
go, they are already in quite a financial mess anyway... But I digress, my apologies. We should get to the matter of your fiancé’s
property, Mr. Williams. I’m truly grateful you came so fast, in fact.”
“I had to,” says Charles, suddenly sounding much less joyous. “Her family is grieving, her father Mr. Starr entrusted me to take
care of matters as best as I could as he trusts me completely.”
How fucking arrogant is he to throw my father’s name around... Swithin goes on to provide some legal details about the flat, and
I don’t understand half of that jargon. It lasts for a while, and all I can tell is that Swithin is clearly working to entice Charles with
the market value of that property, while smoothly questioning him about his legal rights to my belongings. From the bit I can
understand, I am quite amazed about how he’s clearly setting the trap for Charles, not making him feel guilty at all for putting his
hands on my inheritance. I can guess the decades of experience by how he lets him dominate their argument, carefully getting
Charles to let out more about what exactly is going on with what should never have been his...
“I’m still a bit surprised,” Swithin says. “I never knew Miss Starr had been married. She hadn’t gotten in touch with us in quite a
while, so we figured she had been busy, regretfully so. When we heard the sad news, we genuinely expected her father, Mr.
Starr would be the next-of-kin person for us to reach out to. Miss Starr had left instructions. I hope you were not upset by our
mistake.”
Gosh, making him feel superior by pretending he thinks he was the one in the wrong, while aknowledging Charles’ fucking lie as
if it was a truth set in stone... I don’t know if I should be impressed or grossed out. Swithin’s spitting out lies and false truths like
a venomous snake hunting a nasty rat.

“Oh, please don’t,” Charles sighs. “Like I explained, my fi- I mean, my wife was truly worried about the media’s opinion. I tried
many times to have her make our wedding public, assuring her that she had nothing to hide, but unfortunately, the pressure from
the press was too much. I tried to respect her decision until the end, naturally. The lawyers back home are a bit fussy about it as
well, it cannot be helped. I only want the best for what my wife left behind, though. To be honest with you, all those properties
and money are really nothing to me, I just wish she was here with me. Sadly, this is my burden now, I just hope to do what’s
best.”
“That is so incredibly brave of you.”
I roll my eyes. Oh, for fuck’s sake, Swithin...
“I can only imagine June wanted this apartment she purchased for her own use, I have every intention to respect that, I won’t use
it for myself. Do you think it would be possible to sell it? I have no plans to use it, and I am unfamiliar with the current rental
conditions in London, but it might be tough for me to manage from afar...”
“I understand, naturally. To be honest, my advice would be to rent the flat for a little while, the market is set to hit a new height in
just a few months. However, before we speak about that, Mr. Williams, I’m afraid we will have to sort out the succession first.
Due to the important sums involved in Miss Starr’s inheritance, we do have to make sure to go by the rules on everything. I hope
you don’t mind.”
“Of course not! I am unfamiliar with legal matters in the UK, so I would be happy to trust you with it. I don’t think I have ever
heard of your firm before, Mr. Heartgraves, but from the bit my legal advisor found online, you’re quite reputable.”
“Thank you for your praise. I take all of my clients very seriously, so just like you, I will make sure Miss Starr’s belongings are
handed to you without a hint of issue.”
I suddenly realize, Swithin’s been calling me “Miss Starr” from the beginning, and Charles hasn’t even tried to correct him about
it. While I was never grateful for my last name, it does make me a bit happy to not be called “Madam Williams” or something. I’ll
take the little victories I can, I guess.
Bart steps up to me, visibly listening too. Just when I glance at him, I see him open his lips, and I get worried for a second, until a
very faint whisper comes out of his mouth.
“Ask him more about the circumstances.”

“I regret having to ask you this, Mr. Williams,” says Swithin on the other side of the door. “But may I ask how... the tragedy
occurred? The newspapers were a bit cryptic about the circumstances, and the firm would like to send something appropriate to
Miss Starr’s family.”
I remember, our hearing is much better than humans. I’ve been hearing Charles and Swithin chat as if they were right in front of
me, but there’s a large door between us. Only Swithin possibly heard Bart’s whisper, no way one of the humans caught this...
“She... June was extremely depressed. I happened to be away that night, I didn’t watch her... She committed the unthinkable, I
was the one that...”
My god, he couldn’t act even to save his life. I can’t help but roll my eyes, although I’m internally screaming at that bastard’s
pathetic attempt at a pitiful act.
“That’s terrible,” says Swithin. “Was her caretaker not around?”
“Caretaker?” Charles repeats, confused.
“She was diagnosed as heavily depressed, wasn’t she? I knew she wasn’t sent to any facility, but I assumed there was still some
sort of trained staff to take care of Miss Starr, surely?”
Well played, Swithin. Let’s push his buttons and see if that asshole makes a mistake.
“No, no,” he sighs theatrically. “June was quite bent on not allowing any strangers around, and it’s quite sad thinking back, but
she really didn’t have many friends to count on.”
“It sounds like you were the only one who could have truly taken care of her and prevented this tragedy, Mr. Williams.”
I smile, showing off my fangs. Yes, Swithin, corner the bastard. I want to be sure he feels some guilt for what he did.
“It’s... It’s still very hard for me to think about this.”
I hear the woman comfort him. Seriously? Where the hell is she coming from, anyway?
Suddenly, we hear a phone ringing. For a second, I worry Bart or I committed a mistake, but no, it’s coming from the other side of
the room, and Swithin is the one to take it.
“Sorry Sir, I have to take this. ...Yes?” He says, loudly. “...Again? Hera, darling, I told you I would take care of it. I promise I’m on
it.”

Bart and I exchange a smile.
“Yes, yes I know. I’m finalizing the papers, I can drag them to court within the next month. It’s not going to be a problem, darling, I
know you’re attached to your work but I promise we’ll find a better agency, this one is going bust. ...Can I call you back, darling?
Yes. Yes, see you later. Bye.”
He hangs up, and I wonder if another of our siblings fake-called him for this. He clears his throat.
“My apologies, Mr. Williams. My niece has been very nervous about her whole modeling agency issue, her career is very
important to her.”
“Oh, I can’t blame you for looking out for your family! Out of curiosity, may I ask the name of the agency?”
“London Light Entertainment. They will be off the records soon though, I can guarantee you that. With what I’m preparing against
them, they will have to close down business with scraps left!”
“I see...”
Yeah, Charles is definitely hooked. I know his tone, he definitely thinks he got a piece of free information.
“How long are you planning to stay, Mr. Williams?” Asks Swithin. “I will try to get all of this in order as soon as I can, but I hope
you understand it might take a while, you know how it is between the US and here...”
“I’m not sure, I’ve done my best to clear my schedule for the next week, and most of my work can be done remotely or delegated
anyway, that’s how good my team is!”
...That’s how lazy you are, you bastard.
“Then, shall we proceed with a quick visit to the said flat?” Asks Swithin. “As I mentioned earlier, I have the keys with me, and it
is quite close, so if you want to take a quick look before we discuss any further details. I know you want to respect Miss Star’s
wishes, but it is probably preferable you see the property in question...”
“Of course, of course! I do appreciate your honesty, plus you have been incredibly accommodating and driving us around, to be
honest. We will take a quick look at the apartment and then go to our hotel if you don’t mind, the journey has been a bit long and
the jet lag is set to hit soon!”
“Of course, of course. Then, let me grab a couple of things and we shall get going...”

I do hear Swithin ruffling through his papers, but then, Charles whispers something that only a vampire hearing could catch.
“Are you not too tired? We’ll get to the hotel soon.”
“No, Sir...”
My God, my body wouldn’t even be cold yet and this bastard is fucking flirting? That woman’s almost meowing voice is so
annoying, but his fake caring tone even more so. He used it on me too, and I used to believe his bullshit until he couldn’t be
bothered to fake it anymore. Whether we find proof he definitely killed me or not, I’m already convinced. That bastard was
already faking his act poorly at my funeral, but with an ocean between him and those who cared for me, he’s showing his true
colors. Just you wait, you murdering bastard, I’ll get to you...
“Let us get going!” Swithin announces.
We hear their footsteps quickly leaving the office, and I let out a growl, not too loud because I’m still nervous they might hear me.
“...The fucker,” grunts Bart too.
Once I’m sure they have left Swithin’s office, I open the doors wide and walk in, rushing to the window to watch them leave. I’m
careful not to be where they could see me, but I do want to see Charles’ face... unfortunately, I can’t; Swithin’s car is in the
windows blind spot. I soon hear them start the engine and leave and I grimace.
“Don’t worry, you heard him,” says Bart. “He’ll be around for the next week, that leaves us plenty of time to get him.”
“What now?”
“Nothing,” he shrugs. “Swithin’s going to show them around the flat, and then probably come back to work. Lance’s coming to get
us, he has documents to drop here.”
I’m not satisfied with that, I just want... No, I need more action than that. I’m sour that Charles is walking around with some side
chick, eyeing my belongings like a vulture and thinks he got away with it.
“I need to get on his radar quickly,” I groan. “I want this bastard to suffer, not for him to walk around and the worst thing
happening to him being jetlag...”
“We will get to it, Baby Vamp, chill.”
“Stop telling me to chill, Bart. I just can’t believe he...”

I stop, looking back as someone just walked into the office, probably Lancelot. When I glance back though, Bart’s gone, and now
I have a bad feeling. The door opens, and my heart sinks.
...Rick just walked in.