Manipulative Attraction

40. ⚛️ What's Done in Darkness

They had kept the funeral service small with just family and close friends, but her father's house teemed with people. Some even spilled out into the front lawn. They halted Jeannie's progress as they offered their commiserations at her father's passing.

Once through the throng, she entered through the kitchen side door, hoping for a moment to get herself together.

Thorne's I LOVE YOU in Morse code had shaken her so, she'd been glad for the support of the chair she sat on.

Demetri followed on her heels shutting and locking the door behind her.

"You don't have to worry about packing up the house, Jeannie." Demetri ran his hand down her arm, and Jeannie willed herself not to shiver at his touch. "I'll hire a company to do it."

Jeannie nodded and put a little distance between them.

Demetri had been keeping a watchful eye on her since they rode back in the limo together. When she'd excused herself to use the bathroom, he'd been waiting right outside the door. She found it strange at first, then she reasoned her godfather just wanted to make sure she wasn't alone in her grief.

He had escorted her to the kitchen. While Svetlana busied herself with making more coffee, Jeannie and Demetri sat at the table, discussing what would happen after Alex Jones's burial.

Jeannie was reluctant to make any fast decisions, save one. She couldn't have pets at her apartment, so she had to find a temporary home for Fifi until she could move out at the end of the semester. She'd meant to ask Carmen last night, but sleep claimed her instead.

"Yes," Demetri continued as if Jeannie had asked a question. "You don't have to worry about Fifi. She will come home with me."

Demetri hated pets. Why is he offering to take care of Fifi?

"No, that's fine. Carmen will take care of her for the time being."

"But I ins—"

"No!"

Jeannie's shout startled both of them. The guests, milling around in the living room, stopped their chatter.

"You're distraught." Demetri patted her back in a soothing gesture as Jeannie gave him an apologetic glance.

Carmen entered the kitchen, her eyebrow raised, silently asking Jeannie if she needed help.

"Carmen can take care of Fifi. Can't you Carmen?"

"Sure," she said, sidling up to Jeannie to squeeze her arm. "My apartment allows pets. No problem."

When Jeannie turned to thank her friend, she caught a look passing between her godfather and her new friend. Goosebumps broke out on her flesh.

Something isn't right.

Jeannie's throat constricted with anxiety. She coughed to hide the awkwardness of her muteness. Carmen grabbed a glass, filling it with water. Demetri rose, took it from her, and handed it to Jeannie, his hand moving over the rim.

Did he put something in there?

Demetri looked at the glass and then at her, waiting for her to take a sip.

Surely, he wouldn't ...

"Drink, Jeannie." He smiled, his flat eyes like a hawk on the prowl for a tasty morsel—all seeing and all knowing. "You must be parched after all that coughing."

Against her better judgment, Jeannie took a sip, smacking her lips to detect anything odd.

It tastes fine. You're paranoid.

She took another sip, then another, draining the glass.

Demetri stood next to Jeannie. His arm around cinched around her waist like a hated corset. His cold eyes bored into each condolence giver as if the sentiments that poured from their mouths affronted him. His bared teeth or unsmiling lips had them scurrying away as soon as Jeannie said, "Thank you for coming."

And so, it went until Shon arrived. Demetri dropped his hand from Jeannie to grab Shon by his, pumping it like a politician that needed a constituent's vote. "Shon Westwood, "Demetri said, his eyes sparkling like ice cycles at high noon, "I've heard so much about you."

Instinct made the hair of Jeannie's nape stand on end.

Demetri's happiness at seeing Shon was uncharacteristically jovial. What's going on?

Shon looked nonplussed by Demetri's introduction. He'd never seen the white-haired man before in his life, yet the guy was fangirling over him like he was a rock star.

"Um. Yeah. Nice to meet you, too... um..."

"You may call me Demetri." The white-haired man said with a bow of his head.

"Sure thing, Mister...ah...Demetri." Shon removed his hand from Demetri's grip, resisting the urge to wipe it off on his pants. He moved to Jeannie and wrapped her in a comforting hug with a few pats on the back.

"Jeannie, I'm so sorry for your loss."

"Thank you, Shon."

Carmen emerged from a crowd by the fireplace, touching Shon on the shoulder.

He smiled, glad to see a familiar face. He was at a loss as what else to say to Jeannie whom he now regarded as nothing more than a friend. Carmen was who he was interested in, and he hoped she felt the same.

A smiling Carmen saved him from the awkward moment by taking his hand and leading him away.

Demetri lowered his head to whisper in Jeannie's ear.

"Shon Westwood is better than that beast of a man Hawthorne Gable. Too bad Carmen had to take over your assignment. She will go home with the prize."

Demetri studied her reaction carefully, noting every breath, each twitch, and pupil response. He needed to be sure how she felt about Thorne before he put his plan into place.

"It's over, I told you." Jeannie brushed back her curls, nodding politely as a couple waved goodbye. "We're just friends."

Jeannie was lying, but he played along. Carmen had already filled him in on the details.

Later, when everyone left, Carmen, Shon, Anatoly, and Svetlana cleaned up the plates, cups, and saucers, while Jeannie put the food away and did the dishes.

Demetri sat watching her from the kitchen table. He didn't regret his decision to end Alex's life early, in fact, it was he who exposed Alex to his carcinogens. He wanted to enact his plan. He was tired of waiting.

Jeannie Jones had turned into more than he'd hoped for given she came from Alex's Jones stock and not his own. She was smart, beautiful, and strong. He was proud of his creation.