The Billionaire’s Shadow

Chapter One Amelia’s POV My dress is everything I stand against. A shimmering black fabric clinging to my body like a second skin and wrapping around my ankles like the top part of a flower. I should feel pretty, with my make-up perfectly in place and my hair framing my face like tendrils. But the last thing I can allow myself to feel is pretty. “Watch where you are going, damn it!” A gruff voice bellows in my face the second I reach the doors, but I barely have time to respond when I feel the cold liquid seeping into my dress and teasing my skin. “s**t!” I looked up at him, pinching my dress away from my skin. But he’s walked out around me through the doors, heading out into the night. My feet move instantly, a second before his whisper floats through the earbuds. “No, Amelia,” Noah chides softly. I hear him move on the other side of the call, his feet padding softly against the floor. “Don’t lose focus.” “He’s a fucker,” I whisper. A sigh escapes my lips, and I press the buds into my ears before moving inside. “Now, I’ve got to find a bathroom before I start smelling like whiskey.” “At least, it's good whiskey.” “Noah,” I groan, trying not to move my lips. “This isn’t a joke. I hate this place.” “It hates you too, honey,” Noah drawls. Rolling my eyes, I push further into the room, circling around the guests with champagne flutes held delicately between fingers, and a certain glimmer in their eyes. They all act like they are all here to admire the art hanging on the walls, but I know what this really is. A show of wealth and secrets intricately hidden behind their smiles. The classical piece playing travels along the walls like sweetened water, and I try not to let it get to me. It is the first time the senator is opening his home to outsiders, and I know I should not be here. He must not see me here. “You’re sure he’s there?” Noah’s voice comes up again, in between munching on something. Chips. He is obsessed with it. “He’s here,” I murmur, my eyes scanning the room, looking for a bathroom. “Damian Voss doesn’t show up at events where there is no deal on the table. This one will be too scintillating to pass up.” After what happened the last time, the Senator has decided to move out of the city, and he is looking for a businessman who’ll buy all his artworks collected over the years, doing something meaningful with them. I know it will be too good for Damian to pass up. He is here, somewhere. “You have to be careful, Amelia,” Noah whispers. “If the senator sees you….” “He won’t.” “You know you were blacklisted the last time. Keep your head down.” “When do I not always?” Noah’s silence speaks louder than words. In history, I have found it difficult to do exactly that. But it is different. Tonight, my career actually depends on it. I halt suddenly when my eyes fall on the senator. But he hasn’t noticed me yet. He keeps glancing towards the hallway at the far end of the room, as if expecting someone to walk in from there. My eyes follow his, narrowing when I see the security guards lining the staircase, their gaze hovering around the faces of the guests. I can bet that is where Damian Voss will be. Like his reputation, he does everything behind closed doors. “I’m going in,” I whisper. “He must not sniff you out, Amelia,” Noah mutters. “You know Voss is a smart man. He didn’t get this far with people fooling him.” I cracked my neck. “He hadn’t met me then. And Noah?” “Yes?” “He got here through fooling people and getting into dubious deals. I am going to stop him.” This is going to be such a breakthrough in my career, and it is this thought that pushes me across the floors, past the group of women with diamonds in their necks. When I reach the base of the stars, a guard slides in front of me, a frown settling on his face. “This is a private area, Miss,” he says with a stern tone. I angle my head and allow my eyes to droop a little, the slightest irritation inching into them. “I’m looking for the bathroom,” I sigh, rolling my eyes. “Some dumb head practically poured his glass of whiskey on me and ….” “Second door on the right.” Perfect. Giving him a polite smile, I moved through the floor, walking past a small study with bookshelves pressed against the walls. I peek into the room for a second. There is no one in here. But when I reach the next door, my feet halt. Inscribed on the door are the letterings “Private Collection,” and for some reason, my hand moves, twisting the handle. It gives way. “What’s going on?” Noah whispers into the earbuds. “I can’t hear a thing.” “Because nothing is going on,” I whisper back. Maybe I should move on, skipping this room. But something pulls me into its darkness, enveloping me fully. I leave the door slightly cracked behind me, the dull lights from the hallway grazing the space. The blinds have been drawn, and from where I stand, I can make out the whole of New York, tiny lights twinkling in the distance. “It’s beautiful,” I breathe. “What?” “Nothing.” Moving to the left, I find another shelf pressed against the wall, and my hands go through the titles of the books on it. The senator doesn’t strike me as someone who bothers with a piece of literature. Yet, all the books here are first collections of classics. Something isn’t right. “Noah…” But my words never get out as the door cracks wider behind me, causing me to freeze on the spot. Nothing moves. And the music downstairs seems to have wandered into oblivion. I turn around slowly, and my gaze drops on the very reason I am here. He leans against the doorframe, his head angled and his dark eyes fixed on me. And in that split second, I find it hard to breathe. “Care to tell me what you are doing in here, stranger?”