Later that day, George, Dravon's butler, now dressed as a chauffeur, leaned by a spotless blue car and waited for Quinn. Upon spotting her, he strode around to the backside of the car and opened the door for her. She wanted her freedom desperately back. Dravon had continuously sent his chauffeur every day after school to pick her up. She needed some time alone, to explore the town a bit, to know more about the residents and whether they knew anything which involved her mother. He was behaving like Byron Richards recently, always keeping a track on what she was doing and where he was going. She sighed softly and run a hand through her hair to fix her big wavy curls. She would change that, she promised herself. A formal greeting was shared when she got in and the door was slammed shut.
***
Jade rushed, her pink heels clacked on the paving stones as she made a mental note that she needed this therapy and fast. She walked in the Woods' pizzeria and rolled her eyes in impatience. More crowd, but all familiar faces, she inspected. Damn it, she just needed a quiet place to sort her mood, to stuff her mouth with good food, trying not to think about Dravon and Quinn. Lately, her mind had wandered a lot on whether Quinn's stay there was necessary. She knew how Dravon loved solitude. To actually have a guest in his mansion was still unreal for her...even if that guest happened to be Quinn Richards, the savior and one and only Campbell witch left.
She was worried now after having witnessed the raw desire in Dravon's blue eyes each time he saw Quinn. She silently hoped they did not have feelings for each other. She didn't want that to happen...not now, not ever.
The smell of cheese and Italian seasoning filled the air in the pizzeria while she stopped in the doorway as she glanced around hopelessly, trying to find a quiet seat among the busy mob.
Then she noticed Shade Woods helping the waiters with their orders. She waved at him eagerly and he waved back with a warm smile, then beckoned her to join him which she did happily and immediately. Shade guided her to his dad private cabin located on the first floor. It was her first time stepping in Shade's dad private lair. No one had access there except his personal staff and his only rebel son.
The neat cabin was painted in tropical shades of light green and white, stuffed with perfect metal furniture. Jade took a seat facing Shade as he sat in his dad's seat behind his small desk. She let her hazel eyes travel to an old photograph displayed on the desk. It showed a young Shade with his strict dad and smiling mother. They looked so happy together but since his mom's death, neither Shade nor his father had been able to fully move on in their lives. Shade has always managed to keep his feelings well hidden, acting indifferent nowadays. But she knew he was still affected by her death. Even she had lost her mom in a car accident two years ago but she had somewhat managed to tuck away her feelings, instead relying on the infinity members to make her feel secure and loved.
When the waiter came with a large delicious pepperoni pizza with hot chocolate, she couldn't help but smile at him, her gratitude reaching her eyes.
"You remembered, Shade." He winked at her and smiled.
"Well, whenever you have a bad mood, you always eat junk food, especially pizza." Jade took a bite of her slice hungrily.
"Shade, this must be the best feeling in the world..." She watched him stare at her in reflection. "C'mon, eat with me," she insisted.
"Jade, what's wrong?"
"Nothing." She took another bite, then sipped her hot chocolate in silence.
"Is it Dravon and Quinn?," he urged.
"Why does everyone keeps asking me that?" She frowned at him.
"Isn't it obvious?" Jade decided to change the topic before she showed any sign of her true hidden feelings.
"So, you are helping your dad after all."
Shade shrugged, his olive eyes pensive. "If you don't want to talk about it, then fine." He took a slice of pizza, stuffed it in his mouth, then left her there, alone in the cosy and quiet cabin.
***
That evening when dinner was served in Blackwell's palatial mansion, Quinn was surprised to see George setting a second plate at the empty seat facing her across the long antique carved table. During her stay there, not once had Dravon bothered to join her for dinner. She was accustomed now to eat alone in the dimly lit dining room. She glanced at the huge oil painting of a beautiful woman dressed in a long black gown with a ruby red rose in her mouth. She only wore simple pearl earrings leaving her pale neck bare. It must be Dravon's mother with the same color of rose in their front yard, she thought. The room, painted in a combination of maroon and cream with the gold flooring was quite dark and cold, almost unwelcoming for a dining room.
Her eyes travelled from the two hundred years old still intact portrait to settle on the empty seat. But then the second plate meant company. Before she got time to reflect, she heard a voice behind her.
"Allow me to entertain you tonight, mia cara." Stunned by that silky firm voice, she turned her head to Dravon approaching like a predator slowly in languid steps, his confidence apparent on his well structured face.
He took his seat, then gave her a devastating smile and his sapphire blue eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he saw her composed in a pale purple satin dress. That color matched the guestroom upstairs and pale color suited her too. She looked innocent and divine tonight. The silence that reigned was overbearing though, it was so unlike her to remain silent and be calm with a pale make up on as she gazed everywhere, avoiding his stare.
George appeared again along with a wonderful thick vegetable soup, followed by rib of beef, succulently pink in the middle, served with crisp golden potatoes and an array of vegetables, perfectly cooked. For dessert, there was chocolate cake and Queen of Puddings, served with a bowl of whipped cream. They were all displayed on the long table, waiting to be savored.
While they were served a large portion of the main dish, Dravon spoke first.
"George told me you contacted the companion of Helen Deveraux. Any particular reason?"
"I wanted to know if she was fine. Besides she's the only one who knows something about my birth mother." She paused. "I need to know what happened to her. I want the truth to be revealed. Sadly, only Helen Deveraux can give me the answers I want."
Dravon put his knife down."But she still blames you for everything that happened in the past." Quinn mutely nodded.
"I will find the truth," she said with determination. There was another thing annoying her mind right now, the intent way he glanced at her every now and then. She watched his mouth as he chewed a piece of beef under battered lashes. His mouth reminded her of his passionate kisses and she wanted them. God, what was she thinking!
She indicated the painting on the wall. "Your mother was gorgeous." Dravon gaze left her to remain on that painting. "She was...a kind and graceful lady. The admiration that he had for his mother reflected in his eyes.
"And what about the fake parents that you're shown Blue Haven? Where are they?"
"Somewhere in Europe. Whenever I need them, some manipulation is done and like puppets, they mutter exactly what I want." Quinn rolled her eyes. He loved controlling other's lives but that won't happen with her.
"I'm thinking of having a car, Dravon. I don't want to rely on your chauffeur anymore."
Dravon smiled and held her gaze.
"Forget the car sweetheart. After having read your previous records of rash driving in New York, I wouldn't recommend it." Quinn lifted her chin scornfully.
"So? I won't repeat history."
"I need to protect this town, love. Your driving is dangerous for the residents." He joked and shrugged. "So no car, Quinn." He spoke softly, his blue gaze suddenly and disturbingly intense. She glared at him.
"So I'm forbidden to buy a car and drive, according to you?" He leaned forward. "Yes," he said politely.
The hell I am, Quinn thought. She wanted some freedom. She took one last bite of the yummy chocolate cake, then gave him a sweet smile, back in her composed self.
Later that calm night, Quinn opened her eyes wide and breathed heavily. She had a nightmare about someone chasing her in the woods, then attacked her from behind and killed her ruthlessly. She was incredibly restless as she got out of the bed, poured some water and drank nervously.
She glanced at the empty bed. No, she did not want to sleep again. What she needed was some fresh air and a book to keep her mind occupied. She wandered the mansion in the dark, but instead of finding a book in the library, she explored the mansion's grandeur. She wondered if Dravon was in his master suite as she passed that room.
She had never walked through the long corridors before when she stepped in front of an antique engraved dark wooden door. She trailed her fingers on the Celtic marks on the door. It was the west wing door, firmly closed.
Then as she gazed in awe at those marks, she heard a noise...like an object which shattered on the floor. What was surprising was that it came from behind that door. That mansion had only Dravon, George and her inside...so what caused that noise or whom? She shook her head. This couldn't be happening again to her. Suddenly, she remembered Laura Richards death. That door, the broken vase, the dead body...
She closed her eyes and leaned by the closed door for support when she heard it. A faint murmur which sounded like Campbell witch. If that was a nightmare, she wanted to wake up as apparently the door shook faintly against her. As if someone held the knob and shook it violently to open.
She stepped back in horror, not believing her eyes as the door continued to shake.
Just then a hand rested on her shoulder and she screamed loudly in horror.