Chapter 2 - Camilla
1084 Words
PRESENT~
CASSIS, FRANCE
It's been an hour already and the troupe surrounding Mr. Enzo De Russo hasn't moved an inch. They all clustered at his table, fawning over him.
His bodyguard stood directly behind him with a poker face but I could feel his annoyance from the slight twitch of his eyebrow.
There were about three more bodyguards, scattered discreetly across the room - three at the table furthest from Mr. Russo's and two more by the entrance, completely disguised.
Though it took a few minutes longer than usual to spot them, you could always differentiate them from the wayward patriarchs or After-dark debauchees as Percy calls them. The thought alone brought a smile to my face.
He was particularly disgusted by old men who did not know it was too late and time to go back home to their underage wives. And also of the bar attendees, one who was making faces at me.
I narrowed my eyes at him and looked away.
We were here on business; I can't jeopardise weeks of planning for the temptation of beating someone up.
Setting my glass down, I stared at the drink funny.
I didn't think Mia Tais were this strong; I was only on my third glass but was already feeling lightheaded.
A light buzz rang through my ear. Again.
I reached for the earpiece, clicking on it and whispering, “Can someone tell Jonathan to stop fidgeting with the wires and distracting me?”
I heard a faint; how did she know it was me before he spoke up,
“It's not my fault. I don't know why this is taking so long.” I rolled my eyes at him.
“Be patient; it should be over any time from now.”
I swirled the cocktail in my glass and checked the gaunt clock above the wine rack again. It was getting very late.
Turning back to him, I continued to watch him.
His straight back, an arm rested around a man who was smiling gingerly and looked younger than him.
It felt like watching a circus of a King and his loyal subjects, trying to be on his good side. It was stupid and just pathetic.
Finally, about 15 minutes later, the small crowd cleared with only two people left at the table. Who was currently engaged in a deep conversation.
My heels clicked softly against the marble floor, each step muffled beneath the low hum of music.
They quietened down as I drew closer. The two men, deeply engaged in a conversation, grew quiet and eyed me with suspicion.
I glanced at my reflection on the glossy surface of the table and smiled, exactly what I needed him to see.
Sliding into the empty seat between Mr. Russo and the two men, I ignored their stares and picked up an empty wineglass.
I looked up at him, a subtle smile grazing my lips and nudged the tip his way.
His curious gaze stared at me a second longer before falling to the glass and smiling.
Raising the wine bottle, he poured it into my glass.
I ignored the bodyguard tensing up behind me and leaned in a little, “Thank you”
He responded with a slight nod and a smile.
Taking a sip, my eyebrows shot up and I turned to him, “Amarone Della Valpolicella,” I called out, swirling the deep red liquid in my glass.
I noted his surprised expression, which he masked quickly, and took another sip of wine as he asked the people around us to leave.
He turned back to the table and poured himself a glass.
“I'm surprised you've heard of it. Not that I'm saying it's because you're a woman, but because you don't look Italian.”
I chuckled.“I get that a lot and I love it when I surprise people.”
He reached over, kissing each side of my cheek.
“Buona Sera, Signorina. Siete incantevole”
“Grazie mille, anche voi,” I replied.
He pulled back, his face surprised.
“You speak Italian too?”
A small laugh escaped me.
“I schooled in Italy for about four years. In the city of Bologna to be precise.”
“Well, that explains a lot.”
I chuckled and we drove into a long conversation, talking about Italy and school and his love for wine. His father was actually a local farmer who owned a small wine-producing firm.
After a while, he suddenly grew quiet.
“I've always loved the story of Amarone. It's my father's first ever-produced brand, and maybe that's why I'm deeply connected to it.”
I stared at him as he looked longingly at the wine in his glass.
He looked like a genuinely good person - which only made me smirk.
No person would have made it that far in this world, that High in ranks by being a good person. They'd been dead a long time ago.
Giving his head a little shake, he forced a laugh and turned to me,
“I think I've had a little too much to drink, I'd better retire for the night.” He said, standing.
His guard was already speaking into his earpiece.
I stood with him, “Of course, thank you for engaging me tonight.”
“No, no, no nonsense. It was a pleasure spending time with you. Here is my business card; perhaps you won't mind joining me and my wife for dinner sometime. She is a wonder cook.”
I smiled warmly.“That'll be lovely; I will look forward to it.”
“Wonderful.”
He signalled to a guard, “If you'd like, I don't mind asking someone to drop you off,”
“No no, I don't want to be a bother. I'll call a ride.”
“Well if you insist.”
“Goodnight then-”
“Camilla. Camilla Vale,” I said, offering my hand.
He pressed a light kiss to it.
“Goodnight, Camilla.”
“You too Mr Russo.”
I stared at his back as he rounded the corner and exited the clubroom.
Turning toward the back door, I clicked on my earpiece, a smile spreading across my face. “And that gentlemen, is how you get the job done.”
Cheers erupted from the other end then Percy spoke into the microphone,
“I was here the whole time, _Cielo_. I heard everything you flirt.”
“Oh shut up.”
- Writer
