Opulent Obsession: A Dark Secret Society Romance Read online

  “So,” Mama H prompted. “Didn’t you ever wonder?”

  “What?” I looked over at her, still feeling disoriented from thinking about the past. Then I remembered she’d been asking about Mom and that was what had taken me back. I shook my head. “No, no, I guess I never knew why Mom landed here. She was always vague about her past before I was born.”

  Mama H, now standing alongside me, looked around like she was again making sure no one else was in hearing distance. When she was satisfied no one was close, she leaned in one more time. “Oh, lass, we were both belles presented to the Initiates of the Order. Different years, mind you, but we bonded because we were both not chosen by our respective Initiates. We were the leftovers. The rejects. Over the years, some of us have become something of a club.”

  My mouth dropped open as tidbits of what Rafe had told me back in the day filtered through my head. Wait… WHAT?

  My mom and Mama H had been… rejected belles? Like the same ones who went to all the… the sex parties. I remembered what Rafe had furtively described to me. Once he and his friends had snuck onto the Oleander grounds during a Trial and peeked in the ballroom window. He’d blushed when I demanded he tell me what he’d seen. I’d had to put his arm in a wrestling lock until he said uncle and finally gave up the info.

  He said they’d seen a bunch of naked women fucking a roomful of men. He’d been a little more delicate about it, but that was the gist. He’d definitely described a group orgy, though. And then he’d gotten really freaked out and said they’d kill him if they knew he’d ever told, and I had to swear to never tell, and I never had.

  But now here was Mama H telling she’d been one of those women at some point. And… and so had my… mother?

  “Come with me, lassie,” Mama H said calmly. “You’ll catch a bug with your mouth open like that. We’ll find a good place to chat.”

  I somehow managed a nod, and she took my arm and steered me out from amidst the cafe tables and down the street.

  3

  Rafe

  White.

  Why was the ballroom that hosted such dark and depraved acts white?

  And to top it off, all the recruits—including myself—wore a white tuxedo. Were we all cloaking the black of the sin in the white of our elegant attire? White should symbolize purity, and we were far from angelic and innocent here at the Oleander Manor.

  And the Elders in their silver cloaks flooded the room, staring on with their judgmental eyes. They watched us. They watched me.

  The Order of the Silver Ghost always watched me. Even when all eyes weren’t on me, I could still feel them. I could still hear their thoughts.

  I did not belong.

  Timothy should be here in the white tux. He should be the one to go through the Trials of Initiation and earn his membership to the Order. He should be the one to inherit my family’s oil company. Not me. They knew it. I knew it. Every single person in this room knew it.

  I would always be the imposter.

  “Are you ready for the Trials to begin?” Beau Radcliffe asked as he walked up to where I stood and patted my back. “I’m next in line, and I can tell you one thing… I don’t think I’ll be ready for this. If Sully failed it, then who’s to say we can pass this?”

  “We both want to be a member of the Order. That’s the big difference.”

  “Do we?” Beau mumbled as he took a sip of his drink, looking around the ballroom at all the members and all the Elders. “I understand why you do,” he added. “You’ve always tried to live up to his memory. You’ve been trying to live up to your father’s expectations too. I mean… I get it. I do. The Southern Gentleman curse is strong in all of us.”

  I had been helping run my father’s business since high school. I had skipped college because what was the point in studying for anything but the world of oil? My career was set in stone the minute my brother died. The business was going to be mine, so what better education but to dive right in and learn every inch of the biz from good ol’ Pops. Did I want the job?

  Did it matter?

  Looking down at my scotch, I couldn’t decide if I should down it in one swallow or to not drink it at all. I knew I needed liquid courage, but my stomach twisted in knots as the large grandfather clock that mastered the ballroom ticked away. The hands of the face were golden sabers with tiny rubies, and there was no way to not stare as my time grew near.

  The belles would be presented to us soon enough. We were all gathered and ready, and it was just a matter of minutes before they would begin the ceremony.

  “You’re going to be okay,” Montgomery said as he walked up and stood next to Beau and me. Though he was my friend, he was now… different as he stood with his silver robe and the smell of member permeating from his Order energy. “I know this is intense. It wasn’t easy for me, and it wasn’t easy for Sully, but I want you to know you can do this.”

  He looked at me closely, examining my face. “I also want you to know I don’t condone the shit they’re going to make you go through. I hate this. I do. I hate these Trials; I hate having to witness everything that happens. I’ll try my best to be there for you, but I also don’t want to fuck up your chances by getting involved.”

  “How’s your fianceé feel about you attending all the fuck parties?” Beau asked as he finished off his drink in one big swallow and placed his glass down on a table to our right. “I can’t imagine Grace is happy that you attend all these.”

  “She fucking hates it,” Montgomery answered without hesitation. “She hates the Order but understands why I want to be part of it. It’s my world, and she has accepted that. It’s our heritage and runs in our veins. But she also knows my cock belongs to only her, and she trusts my ass.”

  He took a drink, glancing around at the other members who mingled as if it were just any ordinary cocktail party they were attending. “Somewhere along the line, the Order changed. It’s not the same as it was back when we were boys. I know I’ve said this, but I want to change it into something better again. Something better than it ever was. I have a bigger goal. A long-term goal in mind.”

  He looked around at all of us. “But I can’t do this alone. I need you guys to become members. We need new blood that isn’t fucked up and tainted with Viagra and overpriced bourbon. We aren’t the only recruits coming in. The next batch will be soon after us and will have to endure the same shit unless we stop it. I truly don’t believe our great-great-grandfathers would have condoned some of this crap.”

  Montgomery’s words sounded nice, but I didn’t exactly have such lofty goals. I was just trying to survive the night here. I scanned the room looking for my dad. I didn’t expect for him to approach me tonight as I was a lowly recruit and he was an Elder, but it still would have been nice to get his encouragement even in the smallest amount.

  Instead, he stood with drink in hand, a large smile on his face, as he laughed during a conversation with Walker’s dad, looking without a care in the world. It wasn’t like his only living son was about to dance with the devil tonight and maybe needed his father. No, that wasn’t the way it was done in the Order.

  I swallowed my emotions along with my swallow of scotch.

  Emmett and Walker approached us in their white tuxedos. It was a reminder that we were the outsiders. We were the cluster of recruits in line to claim our membership. We were nothing but blank, invisible, white ghosts until we became members of the Order.

  “Seems weird being here without Sully,” Walker said. “Miss the asshole,” he added with a smirk.

  “Why did he fail?” Emmett asked Montgomery.

  Montgomery seemed uncomfortable with the question. “I’m trying to be a good friend to you guys, but there are rules about what the recruits can and can’t know. Eventually you’ll all know the answers”—his eyes darted around the room—“but I can’t discuss that. Especially here.”

  “Do you think I have a chance of actually passing it?” I asked, wondering if I was cut out for this.


  It wasn’t like the inherited malice was in my bones. I was the secondborn. The ghosts who haunted the Oleander Manor could very well have other ideas for me. They knew the truth. They knew it should be Timothy here in the white tux. A small, superstitious part of me was terrified that they were the true judges of an Initiate’s worth.

  Montgomery reached out and patted my arm. “You got this. Just do what’s asked of you even though your morals will be screaming at you not to. Pick a belle who you feel you can endure the 109 days with. It’s long. It’s brutal. It’s extremely boring at times as day after day blend together. And you’re gonna have to fuck the belle. A lot. No way around that. So, make sure the girl gets your cock hard. Otherwise, you’re going to really regret it.”

  My friends laughed, but I didn’t. I wasn’t in the mood to do anything but wait. Wait…

  The loud hammer strike of twelve chimes echoed in the room. Canes being held by the Elders matched the cadence and the intensity as they banged against the white marble floor. The Choosing of the Belles was about to begin.

  “Bring in the belles,” one of the Elders demanded after the twelfth punch of his cane.

  The recruits lined up with me in the center of the room. We stood at attention and waited.

  We had done this before. Once for Montgomery, and once for Sully. Eventually there would only be one standing here from our cluster. I suppose I was happy that I wasn’t the last one. At least I had moral support on each side of me as Emmett, Walker, and Beau flanked me in the repeated ritual.

  I’d tried to prepare myself for this moment. I’d told myself I’d just pick one of the passingly pretty ones—not a beautiful one who’d probably be too needy or high-maintenance, and not one of the dull-looking ones. Like Montgomery said, I needed at least a passing attraction to the girl.

  The room went silent, and I waited for the sound of heels—the belles were coming but instead of being a spectator like the times before, I knew this time it was my turn.

  Twenty young women.

  The Order of the Silver Ghost deemed the number centuries ago, just as they decided exactly what would happen step by step of every moment of not only tonight but of the next 109 days. I was at their mercy, and the innocent, and unfortunate, belle was as well.

  I felt bad for the women. I hated that I had to choose one to endure this hell with me. I knew they wanted to be chosen, but they had no idea what that truly meant. Not really. They didn’t know they were caught in a fire and the only way to make it out without burns was to run away tonight.

  I could save nineteen of them from the flames, but one was doomed to burn alive with me.

  As they entered the room, they stood in a line before us. I knew I was to study each one. Pick the hottest, or at the very least the most interesting. But the truth of the matter was they all would be pretty. I hadn’t seen a belle yet who wasn’t.

  Long flowing ball gowns moved before me. Tiny, corseted frames, massive amounts of fabrics, utmost beauty and—

  What the fuck! Was this some kind of sick joke?

  Fallon Perry?

  What the fuck was she doing here?

  I blinked several times in hopes that I wasn’t seeing the same woman whom I had reconnected—even briefly—with at Sully’s party. I looked around, waiting for Montgomery to laugh and say it was a sick prank and to bring out the real girls now.

  But no one was laughing, and no one was moving and Fallon fucking Perry stood in front of me as one of the Belles of the Midnight Ball. I shook my head. Maybe it was just some chick who looked like her. Because why the hell would Fallon be one of the belles? This couldn’t be right.

  I’d only had one swallow of scotch and I didn’t feel dizzy or high. I hadn’t been drugged. Still, I couldn’t help wondering if I was just imagining the one woman who had ever given me comfort in my life, a sudden apparition to help me get through this night?

  But the longer I stared, the more certain I became.

  It was Fallon. My Fallon.

  There she stood—the only one dressed in violet—who made brief eye contact with me before she looked down to the ground as if ashamed.

  Heat fired through my blood. She should be ashamed! What the hell was she doing here?

  She knew better than this! She knew well enough about the Order and what that meant. She wasn’t stupid. So why the fuck was she here?

  Her dark eyes lifted but instead of looking at me, she studied her surroundings. She soaked in the nightmare of this morbid Cinderella ball.

  Yes, Fallon, the stories were true.

  Yes, this is real.

  Yes, you should get the hell out of here right now.

  “Display the belles,” the Elder demanded with a beat of the cane.

  I needed to get her out of here. This was insanity. The last girl—Montgomery might not be willing to spill secrets, but Sully had taken me aside last week and told me the hell they put the “belles” through. They’d buried his girlfriend alive when she was a belle. Sweet little Portia!

  My guts rebelled at the thought of anyone ever putting hands on Fallon like that. She didn’t belong here. I’d never let these fuckers lay one finger on her.

  But I couldn’t take one step towards her. I couldn’t grab her around the waist, hike her over my shoulder, and march her out of the mansion like I wanted. There were invisible ghostly shackles holding me in place. My being here was about more than me. I was fulfilling my brother’s legacy. I couldn’t just— I couldn’t just—

  I glanced at my father to see if he noticed Fallon was one of the belles. If he did, he didn’t show it on his face. He stood expressionless as he waited for the ceremony to continue.

  Remember my best friend from childhood, Dad? Remember Fallon Perry? Remember the little girl who grew up in our house? Remember her? Well, she’s here in the Oleander! Aren’t you going to stop it?

  Of course not.

  Another Elder began the procession of the belles by leading them single file through the ballroom. He walked them in front of the cloaked Elders first, then the members, and finally to us. This is what was done every single time and no surprise. Yet, it didn’t seem real. I wasn’t sure if it was because this was all done for my benefit or because Fallon fucking Perry was one of the belles.

  They repeated the act three times, circling the room with the sound of their expensive shoes tapping against the white floor. I couldn’t focus on a single belle other than Fallon. Her dark hair hung in curls down her back. Her makeup, though much less and lighter than when we were friends in high school, still remained smoky around the green color of her eyes. She held her head proud, her shoulders back in confidence, and her body broke through the thick air of evil as the only light and good in the room.

  But she shouldn’t be here.

  God, what was she doing here?

  The twenty belles all came from a place of poverty. There was no secret each one of them was here for money. The Order promised them their dreams. Whatever it was they wanted would be theirs if chosen. If the belle completed the Trials, then all would be at their fingertips.

  But Fallon?

  No, she didn’t exactly have money. I wouldn’t have considered her poor or in need. Or was she? It wasn’t like I knew what happened to her after she left during our senior year. Come to think of it, her mother stopped being our housekeeper at the same time and well… we had lost touch. So, I guess it was fair to say that I didn’t exactly know the circumstances that had brought her here.

  But regardless, if she needed money… well, I had plenty to give. I may not have the same power or money as my father, but I was definitely well off, and…

  She wasn’t like these other belles.

  She may not be the rich socialite, or even the southern debutante like the wealthy women in my world. But still…

  She was Fallon.

  My Fallon.

  “Rafe Jackson,” the Elder called out as the belles lined up once again before me and the recruits who hadn’t moved an inc
h even though I fought the urge to run to Fallon. “It is time for you to choose the belle.”

  The Elder who had been leading the procession of belles walked over to where I stood and opened his fist. Resting on his palm was a black satin ribbon. I already knew what to do next as I had watched both of my friends do this before me.

  Taking the ribbon, I took a deep inhale and began the touching of the pearls. I had to keep moving. I couldn’t raise the issue. I couldn’t let on that I knew one of the belles. I wasn’t sure what would occur if the Elders were made aware of that fact. I couldn’t stop the ritual before it truly had begun.

  Don’t make eye contact with Fallon.

  Ignore her.

  One by one, I approached each female and briefly touched the pearl necklace they all wore. I hadn’t reached Fallon yet but knew she was coming soon.

  Going through the motions, steadying my nerves, and focusing on the ceremonial act was all I could do. Thinking about her would mess this all up. All eyes were on me. I knew this. I wasn’t going to let my father down or my brother. Timothy would have wanted me to do this right. Nothing and no-one could screw this up for me.

  Focus on the task at hand—following the steps of Montgomery and Sully before me, I would conduct the ceremony perfectly.

  And then I reached Fallon.

  She locked eyes with me as I reached out to caress her necklace. I wanted to talk to her. I wanted to hold her, hide her, run away with her. I wanted to yell and scream at her. I wanted… I needed to keep moving on. No way was I going to choose her.

  It was my duty to protect her even if she hated me for it.

  No way would I allow her to go through the steps of the Initiation with me. I didn’t know exactly what would occur, but I had heard enough from Montgomery and Sully, not to mention the years of rumors, to know this manor was not a place for her. If I chose her… I would have to stand back and watch her suffer.

  I would never allow that to happen.