The Arrangement Anthology 2(151)
“Oh God. Was this your plan? To come to the mansion and boop my mother on the nose?” He laughs, amused for real. Sean shakes his head, like I’m a pathologically needy black hole—I suck everyone and everything into my mess of a life, if they get too close. Sean’s been sitting on the edge, carefully balancing himself—until now. His demeanor shifts as he scoops me up into his arms.
“Where are we going?” I thought this was his bedroom.
Sean’s hand covers my lips, silencing me. “Shhh. I don’t want them to hear you.” With that, Sean turns on his heel and retreats, taking me from this room, and carries me into a darkened hallway.
My eyelids feel like lead and I can’t help it, they droop as my cheek falls against his chest. I finally ask, “You’re not mad?”
Sean is quiet and then smiles. “No.”
“I came to your mother instead of you. You know what that means. Right?” I should probably shut up now, but I can’t.
He nods once, carefully, as he pads down hall after hall. We pass no one, which is odd. No maids, no servants of any kind.
Sean sucks in air and glances down at me. “I did the same thing, thinking it would save you. I can only imagine what you thought the Ice Queen could do. Mother has a way of overpromising and under delivering. For example, she promised me a particular name the night of Trystan’s concert, and I promised her something in return.”
His voice trails off as we come to a set of massive wooden doors. They tower above us and each panel is carved intricately and laced with iron. There’s iron lattice work, scrolls, and twisting decorative bars.
I reach out, sliding the pads of my fingers over a piece of metal. “Was this on purpose? All the iron? An old lady told me that Ferro means iron in Italian.”
Sean smiles. “I’m not certain. Mother didn’t elaborate whether it was a preference for the Old World style or family pride. Either way, I’m glad you like it, because my rooms are nothing but wood and iron.”
My heart turns to ice and drops to my toes. “Your rooms?”
Sean nods, sensing my reaction. He tightens his hold on me, and repeats those words once more, “You shouldn’t have come.”
CHAPTER 2
The interior of the Ferro mansion is a labyrinth. I couldn’t find the front door again if I tried, and Sean’s rooms don’t appear to have another exit, aside from the massive double doors. I struggle to get out of his arms. Between his cryptic words and the serene look on his face, I’m more than mortified.
Swallowing hard, I ask, “I didn’t think you lived here anymore.”
“I don’t.” Sean continues walking with me cradled against his chest, passing from one lavish room to the next. His rooms are dark red, gold, and filled with leather and iron. Each velvet drape hangs from twenty feet up and extends all the way down to the floor. They’re closed, sealing out the light. Golden tassels adorn the pillows on a brown leather Tantra Chair. Leather cords are wrapped around the legs and tucked neatly underneath. It’s the only piece of furniture in this room.
My jaw drops and I stare at it. Sean notices, “When I turned twenty-one I was given funds to redecorate my quarters. This is my favorite room, although the box is long gone.”
I stare at the chaise lounge and stiffen in his arms. The memories of the box come racing back, making me shiver in a bad way, and then my stomach twists as if disappointed. What the hell is wrong with me? I didn’t like the box.
“Poor little rich boy only got a sex room for his birthday.” I make a pouty face, but I can’t hold it in place. When we enter the next room, the ceilings stretch higher. Ornate moldings, covered in gold, accent the deep red finish on the walls. Golden drapes cover these windows, but they are pulled back enough to let in a little bit of light. That sliver of light lands directly on the biggest bed I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s the size of two king beds pushed together.
The burgundy crushed silk coverlet lies over a fluffy down comforter. Tall spires of iron and wood stretch into the air, the tops adorned with swags of cream and blood red silk. They tangle together and hang down the poles, forming puddles of fabric.
An antique carpet covers a hand carved floor that looks an awful lot like ebony. I can only imagine how much the floor alone cost. As I look around, my senses are filled with things that are rich and lavish. Dark bookcases line another wall. They also appear to be custom and hand carved. The Ferro family crest adorns the top of each case. It’s inlaid with gold filigree on the center bookcase, surrounded by red stones that I can only assume are rubies. This is more opulent than I would’ve ever thought. The ceiling is obviously 24 karat gold leaf. I can see each little patch and know someone took hours upon hours applying each one by hand. Over the years, it’s developed a beautiful finish.