It’s one of the two reasons he still works here. Scarce few males I’ve come across in any of my professions possess any modicum of self-restraint.
The second is that he doesn’t take offence to my sharp words or fiery temper.
In fact, he seems to appreciate them.
They glide off him like morning dew to a flower petal.
If said petal were seven feet of velvety muscle, gothic kaleidoscope wings, and horned antennae from a perpetually midnight realm, whose people sustain themselves almost exclusively on blood.
A kindred spirit, perhaps.
He, too, is merciless with his words.
“Why haven’t you contacted yoursoulbound? It’s been three weeks since I introduced you.”
The grin on his lips dies, and the membranous lids of his entirely black eyes briefly close. “Because she’s a haughty, entitled, heinous, bloodthirsty bitch.”
My throat works against an uncomfortable swallow.
Sounds vaguely familiar.
“Well… that doesn’t soundsobad.”
He gives a derisive snort. “And she wants nothing to do with a casteless thug and recluse who has no surname and no societal standing.”
A fire ignites in my chest. My veins.
Arturo is within my employ. I would be remiss if I did nothing to make her aware of her fallibilities.
He studies me as I arch a brow and examine my perfectly manicured nailbeds. My tone is neutral; detached.
“What an unfortunate revelation…”
Arturo remains silent, wariness pricking.
Feigning nonchalance, I clear my throat. “You should have told me sooner. I shall have to pay her a visit.”
Arturo gives me a bored look. “Don’t bother. Veera is a lost cause, and not one I wish to save.”
We’ll see about that.
The machinations of my mind begin to take a malevolent turn, summoning a small smile to my lips. “I see... Well, I need to use the privy. Shan’t be long.”
Arturo’s brows narrow. “Don’t…”
But I’m already striding away to my office as he growls behind me.
“Violette.”
I clear my throat, shouting my admonishment from down the hallway.
“It’s Miss Lark, you ill-mannered beast! We’ve discussed this!”
Arturo folds directly in front of my office door, but as the wards reject him, he’s shoved against the hallway’s wall by unseen hands. Excluding myself, no one is allowed to enter unless I expressly permit it.
I slam the door shut before he can vocalize any further protest.
In the next moment, I’ve opened a portal inside Veera Halthwait Peresitio’s bathing chamber, where she is currently sitting on a toilet relieving herself, just as a tiny whine of flatulence escapes her bottom.