Loss for words

The things we have to endure to stop others from revealing our secrets are harsh. No one had ever dared to order me around, and here I was, being ordered around by a freaking playboy!!! Out of all people, it had to be Adrik.

I paced around the school hallway, waiting for 8 pm to come. Time was going slow, it was only 7:00. I screamed out of irritation and received some dirty looks. A girl with short blond hair walked up to me with a dissatisfied look on her face. I already knew what she was going to ask me before she even opened her mouth.

"Excuse me, are you Vivian?" the girl asked?

"The one and only, why? Do you need something? I answered. The girl hesitated before asking me her question. She was going to ask me about Mr. Playboy. She saw him mouthing at me in class and understood that I was meeting him at his house, but not for the reasons she had in mind. Unlike her, I wasn't going to be his personal wh*re, I was going there for strictly business.

I motioned for her to talk even though I knew what she would ask. The girl was shivering, and sweat was falling down her face. I could hear her heartbeat racing. She was scared of me for many reasons. One because my uncle was the biggest narcotic around the world and was very well respected by everyone, including the police and the president. He was honestly a big deal. They didn't consider him a criminal, but a businessman. The girl was also scared because of some rumors that were currently going around school. I supposedly killed 10 people and sold their organs in the black market in exchange for drugs. It's honestly so hilarious the way humans think. Well, they're not completely wrong about the fact that I killed 10 people, but it was only to feed myself. I don't eat humans. That's disgusting, I just drink their blood. It's the only way I can survive in this petty little country. What I have been wondering is who spilled my dirty little secret? I still haven't gotten to the bottom of it, but I will soon. No one can know about my identity. I'm the last of my race, well including my uncle, and if we get found out, then that would be a big problem for us.

The girl tapped my shoulder to bring my attention back to her. "A-A-Are you meeting Adrik at his house?" she blushed as she asked me the question. I just smiled at her, and she gulped.

"It's none of your business what I'm doing. Get lost." I said to her. I got close to her ear and whispered, "Don't worry, I'm not going there to take your job. He's all yours." I gave her a challenging look. The girl was about to say something but retreated in shame.

Looking up at the clock, I saw that it was already 7:50, so I decided to leave. I started walking towards the school's parking lot and got out the keys out of my purse. Unlocking my Lamborghini, I got in and sped away into Old Valley Mansion, which was Adrik Ramirez's old-fashioned mansion.

10 minutes later, I arrived at Old Valley Mansion, and I parked my car. I got out and stared at the mansion. It was colored in black, but not black paint. It was like a rich black color that only vampires could make. Staring at the color, I started getting some sort of déjà vu.

The front door opened, and I jumped.

"So, are you just going to stand there, or are you coming in, Vivi del Rey." said Adrik. My skin shivered when I heard my real name being called. Not only that, but he used my nickname with my last name, and only a guy had ever called me that, and that guy was Adrian Lopez.

Seeing that I was at a loss for words, he walked over to me and whispered in my ear, "It's me, Vivi, don't you recognize me anymore?" he said. Shocked, I looked at him closely and saw 5 familiar moles that formed a triangle near his eye, and I immediately recognized him. It was Adrien. I had never seen Adrik from up close, but I always knew that their was something off with him. Every time I saw him, he always reminded me of Adrian, but I had always brushed it off as me just being paranoid. Never could I have ever imagined that he was actually my best friend, whom I had thought was dead.

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