Lynn love

Chapter 8

Alex barely acknowledged Ben's presence, their disinterest as sharp and deliberate as a blade left on the table. They didn't offer him a seat, didn't look up—just kept leafing through a spread of yellowed papers, each page whispering secrets too old for comfort. Ben stood awkwardly by the doorway, hands in his coat pockets, eyes scanning the room like it might bite. Without a word, Alex walked to the tall, steel-paneled refrigerator humming quietly against the wall. They opened it. Inside, neat glass vials of dark, sluggish blood glinted under the sterile interior light. No labels. Just hunger, stored and waiting. Ben recoiled slightly, nose wrinkling. "Come on, dude," he muttered, uneasy. "You know I don't drink that frozen s**t. I need it warm—alive." Alex didn't even flinch. Just closed the fridge with a soft click and turned slowly, their expression unreadable, voice as cold and flat as slate. "Then perhaps you should go home, where your pets wait eagerly to bleed for you," he said. "I didn't ask you here. And if you insist on pestering me while I'm working, I'll arrange one of my limousines to take you back." Ben opened his mouth to protest, but something in Alex's eyes—empty, ancient, exhausted—cut him off. "Don't speak," Alex added, already turning back to their documents. "The car will be here in three minutes. Kindly do not test my patience until then." Exactly three minutes later, a knock echoed through the silence—firm, deliberate. One of the estate guards appeared at the door, dressed in black and bathed in shadows. His voice was low, almost ritualistic. "Your car has arrived." Alex didn't look up. Stepping out of Alex's office $&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& Ben thoughts As we turned the corner, we saw her—Lynn the secretary. She was standing by her desk, hands slowly arranging a stack of papers that didn't need arranging. Her movements were too perfect, too rehearsed, like a mannequin pretending to be human. Her back was impossibly straight, her head slightly tilted, listening. I didn't say a word. just stopped and gave her a smile. But it wasn't kind—it was wrong. Wide, too wide. The corners of my mouth curved like they were being pulled by something beneath my skin, something that didn't belong to me Lynn looked up. Her face didn't change, but her eyes widened just a fraction. Her fingers paused mid-motion. The blood drained from her cheeks in a slow, visible retreat. She didn't speak. She didn't have to. Lynn's Thoughts: It feels like I'm the only one who knows the truth—about him. About them. Vampires, or something worse. Everyone else just goes about their day like nothing's wrong. It's strange. So surreal. I tell myself: I'll grab some breakfast. Clear my head. Then I'll figure out what the hell I'm going to do about this new position... if I even keep it. As I made my way down the corridor, I ran into Rose. Her eyes locked on me with quiet urgency. There was concern—real concern—etched into every line of her face. "Lee," she said firmly, "what have I told you about wandering off—especially near him? That young monster." She glanced over her shoulder, voice lowering. "And what's this rumor I'm hearing? You're his new secretary?" I nodded slowly, unsure how much to say. She stepped closer, her voice sharp but laced with fear. "How did you even get that position? Do you know how dangerous it is to be around people like them? You're playing with fire, and they don't burn like the rest of us do." I tried to smile, tried to sound calm—strong. I told her I was fine, that I could handle myself. I even believed it, for a moment. But as I walked away, I felt the weight pressing against my chest—the same heavy, hollow feeling I'd had since I stepped into that building. The truth was, I wasn't sure at all. Not about him. Not about any of them. And least of all, not about myself. Lynn's Thoughts: Rose mentioned something else—quietly, almost like a warning. She told me the last secretary never ate with the others. No lunch breaks in the staff lounge. No coffee chats. No smiles exchanged in passing. She took every meal alone. Breakfast, lunch, dinner—always at her desk. Always isolated. Always ignored. There was something so sad about that. I've been trying to connect with people, to build some kind of bond in this place, but it's like there's an invisible wall between me and everyone else. They look at me, but they don't see me. Still, I kept moving—heading back to my desk, telling myself it would get better, that I just needed time. I was straightening a few things, trying to make the space feel like mine, when the office door creaked open behind me. I turned—slowly. One of Alex's guests emerged. Tall. Unfamiliar. Dressed too sharply for comfort, with a presence that immediately unsettled the room. He didn't say a word. Just stopped at the threshold... and smiled at me. But it wasn't a smile of greeting. It was something colder—deeper. The kind of smile that didn't touch the eyes. The kind that makes your skin tighten and your stomach turn, as if some part of you—something primal—knows you're being watched like prey. I didn't move. I couldn't. He held that smile for a second too long... then disappeared down the hall. I told myself to breathe. But even then, I wasn't sure if the air in this place still wanted me alive.