Chambers of Desire: Opus 1 by Sophie Moreau Read Free Book Online

leading to a wraparound porch. Initially, when the car picked me up at my hotel, I assumed we were headed back to his office, sure that the second interview would be much like the first. The driver said nothing, but as we began our drive, I realized we were headed out of, not in to the city.
    I started to wonder where we were headed but gave up soon enough, realizing that it’d only make me crazy. I had enough to think about without stressing about where I’d be at the end of this car ride.
    I’d slept soundly the night before, exhausted by the rigorous drilling, courtesy of Mr. Oliver Du Cheval. After hanging up the phone, I’d crawled immediately into bed, falling asleep fully clothed for the second day in a row. I woke about 4:00 p.m. famished, and as soon as I finished an overpriced room-service salad, fell immediately back into a dreamless slumber.
    My eyes popped open at 6:00 this morning, a nervous energy buzzing through my body. Today, I realized, I would finally meet the Calvin Chambers.
    I was already waiting in the lobby when the Mercedes pulled up, driven by the same chauffeur with a cap pulled low, almost covering his eyes. My feeble attempts at small talk were fruitless, and I leaned against the cool, camel-colored leather. Almost an hour later, we pulled through a wrought-iron gate and into the Chambers estate.
    The car slowed to a stop in front of a brick staircase leading to the front door. I stepped out of the car into a sun-filled day. After three unanswered rings of the doorbell, I pushed the door open and let myself into the empty foyer, heart pounding.
    To my right, a long winding marble staircase led to a second story. In the center of the large room, beneath an elegant crystal chandelier, was an enormous freestanding fish tank. It had to be well over a thousand gallons, filled with colorful, eye-catching fish. I approached the tank cautiously, drawn to the bright hues and flurry of movement within the waters.
    I looked carefully to see whether I recognized any species in the tank. My dad had a fish tank in his office that I had spent many hours gazing into, wistfully wishing I were somewhere— anywhere —else. But these fish differed from the tetras and goldfish that populated the law firm; I was no expert but those fish looked dangerous.
    A lionfish lurked in the background searching for its own prey with predatory grace. A theme seemed to emerge in Mr. Chambers’ décor; I wondered whether he’d had a designer or whether these were carefully requested pieces. I had a strong feeling it was the latter, based on the article I’d seen on the plane.
    A piercing bark reverberated through the empty room, and I stumbled from the tank, sending a spasm of panic into my heart. I looked around frantically for the source, praying to find a leashed animal, rather than a ready-to-pounce guard dog. No such luck. Perched on the bottom marble stair sat a large pit bull, ears flattened against its skull, eyes narrowed, zooming in on its prey— me .
    Virgin mauled to death in vicious pit bull attack , the story would read. He looked as if he wanted to make a snack out of my face, snout snarled into a hungry grimace. Growling threateningly, he bared his teeth, slick with spittle, ready to lunge.
    I’m done for , I realized, squeezing my eyes shut.
    “Princess!” My eyes flew open. The sharp reprimand sent the dog’s tail between its legs, a whimper replacing its ominous growls. Princess ? More like Cujo .
    “Down, girl!” The voice grew louder, more threatening, as it neared, and both the dog and I snapped our necks to watch Calvin Chambers begin to descend the marble staircase. Mollified, the pit bull relaxed, uncurling her snarled lip, covering her razor teeth.
    ”Ah, Sabrina. Please do relax. Nervousness tends to excite her.”
    Relax? Um, easier said than done. My eyes jumped between Calvin and the dog that had yet to back down fully. I looked longingly at the front door.
    He wouldn’t let his dog