Her Midnight Billionaire

Chapter 2: The Robbery

The assembly hall entryway opened up, and Grace heaved as she took in the scene before her. The space was loaded up with visitors, all wearing elaborate veils and extravagant outfits. It was like venturing into a scene from a fantasy.

Alexander laughed at her response. "Welcome to the disguise," he said, directing her into the room. "This is the headliner of the function."

Grace felt a shudder of expectation as she looked around at the baffling, covered faces.

Alexander drove Grace to a table canvassed in fragile finger food varieties and woodwinds of champagne. "You should be eager after your excursion," he said, giving her a glass.

Grace took a taste, relishing the fresh, effervescent taste as she reviewed the group. Out of nowhere, her eyes arrived on a tall, striking figure in a gold cover and dark cape. He appeared to radiate a demeanor of force and authority, and Grace felt attracted to him in a manner she couldn't exactly make sense of.

"Who's that?" she asked, gesturing towards the veiled man.

"Goodness, that is only the Count," Alexander said nonchalantly, as though he were discussing a typical colleague. "He's somewhat of a legend in these circles."

"What do you mean, a legend?" Grace asked, her interest provoked.

"Well," Alexander said, turning down the volume, "they say he's the most influential man in New York. Some even call him the Lord of Manhattan."

Grace felt a chill run down her spine. There was something dull and puzzling about the Count, and she couldn't resist the opportunity to be interested in him.

"Thus, what's his story?" she asked, incapable of taking her eyes off the covered figure.

Alexander faltered, as though he were discussing the choice about whether to uncover the mystery. "I shouldn't cross the line," he said finally. "In any case, the Count has a...let's call it an exceptional plan of action. He's the sort of man who generally gets what he needs, and he won't hesitate to play filthy to get it."

Grace felt a shiver of dread overview her spine. There was an evil thing about this man, something that made her need to stay away.

"Indeed, I think I'll avoid him," she said, taking one more taste of champagne to steady her nerves.

"Insightful decision," Alexander answered, a grin playing all the rage. "He's not the sort of man you need to get on some unacceptable side of."

Grace gestured, her look floating back to the Count. She was unable to shake the inclination that there was something else to him besides meeting the eye.

Unexpectedly, a quiet fell over the room as a lady in a white veil moved forward to the platform at the front of the room.

"Welcome, fine people," she said in a voice that conveyed easily across the room. "Much obliged to you for coming this evening. As a considerable lot of you know, our occasion is on the side of a brilliant reason."

Grace listened eagerly as the lady talked, yet she couldn't resist the opportunity to feel occupied by the secretive Count. He was by all accounts watching her with those penetrating eyes, and she was unable to shake the inclination that he would find out about her more than he ought to.

"Furthermore, presently," the lady proceeded, "it is my pleasure to present the genuine article, the Count!"

The Count moved forward to the platform, his gold veil sparkling in the light. He was significantly seriously forcing very close, with his tall, lean casing and his puncturing look.

"Much obliged to you for coming this evening," he said, his voice low and direct. "Your presence here will have a genuine effect on the existence of those less lucky."

Grace looked as the group held tight to all Count's words, hypnotized by his strong presence. In any case, as he talked, she felt a chill creep over her, a feeling of premonition that made her need to turn and run.

As the Count proceeded with his discourse, Grace got a brief look at development somewhere off to the side. She turned and saw a little gathering of veiled figures crawling along the edge of the room, their developments stealthy and cryptic.

She felt an unexpected shock of dread. Was it an off-base thing? She needed to call out, to caution the Count, yet she was unable to get comfortable with herself.

And afterward, in a moment, tumult emitted. The concealed figures lost their camouflages, uncovering themselves as veiled burglars, equipped with weapons and prepared to strike.

"Get down!" one of the looters yelled as they pointed their firearms at the group. "This is a theft!"

The group emitted into a frenzy, shouting and running for the ways out. Grace watched with dismay as the looters traveled through the room, snatching resources and pushing visitors out of their way.

The Count, in any case, stayed cool and made it. "What is going on with this?" he requested, his voice ringing out over the bedlam.

"We're hanging around for the cash, Count," one of the looters answered, a threatening smile all over.

The Count's eyes are limited

behind his veil. "You're committing a grave error," he said, his voice as downright frigid. "Do you truly figure you can pull off this?"

The looter giggled, his eyes shining with malignance. "We as of now have, Count. Furthermore, we have you to thank for it."

The Include's eyes broadened in shock, however he recuperated rapidly. "I don't have a clue. You won't ever pull off this."

"Goodness, we will," the burglar expressed, going to confront the Count.

The looter made a stride nearer to the Count, his firearm focused on the extremely rich person's chest. "Count, we've been watching you. We have a lot of familiarity with your little insider facts, and we're here to ensure they become visible."

The Count's face was like stone, however Grace could see the acknowledgment unfolding in his eyes. He had underrated these looters, and presently he was addressing the cost.

The looter smiled, appreciating his triumph. "Furthermore, presently, Count, I believe it's the ideal opportunity for you to go with a decision. Your life...or your privileged insights."

The Count stood tall, disobedient notwithstanding risk. "I would prefer to bite the dust than yield to your requests," he said, his voice consistent.

The burglar snickered, a horrible, woofing sound. "Great, Count. I surmise we'll need to do this the most difficult way possible."

He pulled the trigger, and a solitary gunfire rang out in the tumultuous room. The Count staggered in reverse, his hand gripping his chest as he tumbled to the ground.

Grace shouted, her heart beating in her chest as she watched the Count breakdown.