Entangled with the Ruthless CEO

TALIA’s POV “I think you should wear the Versace gold dress or the Dior silk dress,” Tess instructed over the phone. “I might have considered Dior, but we both know I don't like attention, and these two outfits are the perfect recipe to get everyone’s attention,” I tried to make her see from my point of view. “I don't know why someone would have this much pretty girl and still choose to blend with the damn background. Talia, you need to change,” I could hear the muffled sound of pans and the oven door slamming shut in the background. She was probably baking. “I told you they were all fake, and I thought the black Dior might be a better option for tonight,” I negotiated. “If you consider wearing the gold dress, you might actually meet a wealthy suitor or a handsome man who will have more than enough money to get the originals of all these cheapass dupes.” “Well, if you put it that way, I might actually consider that too… bye, catch yah later,” I hung up after that. Tess was one of the very few friends I made after I started my life all over as Talia, and I had been honest with her as much as I could afford to, but she didn't know about my real identity or how wealthy I really was and the fact that I didn't use anything fake or that I had more than enough money to buy me a small island if I wanted to. I was done dressing up within an hour. I went with the gold dress like she suggested, a black lacy fancy mask that covered well enough for me to be unidentified, and a stiletto I could easily slip off in case I needed to make a quick dash, but it was still quite early to get there, so I spent my extra time selecting the best tools that went with my fancy dressing. A pocket knife, my tiny but lethal gun that sat in my inner thigh garter holster, a small amount of laxative, and a backup lace mask easily folded in between the ruffles of my dress. By the time I was done preparing, it was almost time, and I needed to be early enough to settle in the shadows of the hall so I could observe and catch my prey easily. I managed to sneak past the flashing cameras near the entrance, picked a champagne flute from a passing waiter, and made my way behind one of the flower arches so I could easily mix without mixing and so I didn't look suspicious to any observant eyes. I watched people make small talk, ladies in overpriced dresses like the one I was in and their half masks held in one hand while they caught up on gossip, while the men busied themselves with quieter conversations and occasional whiskeys or scotch. This gig was easy and very important to me. The client was referred by one of my best-paying clients, who had already given me a heads-up that the client was willing to pay extra and refer me to more people in their circles if I did the job well enough. I was not willing to slip up or make any mistakes that could cost me my bonus. The target came in later wearing the diamond necklace I was supposed to deliver to my client later that night. She looked gorgeous with a mask that barely hid her details, making it easier for me to recognize her. The diamond necklace sat beautifully between the V of her plunging neckline. This was supposed to be easy. I picked another flute from a passing waitress and was about to turn it down when I saw my mark go near the glowing ice sculpture filled with dozens of oysters. I watched her tip the first one into her mouth, the way her eyes closed in pure ecstasy as she went for the next one. Oysters it was. I adjusted my lacy black glove, walked toward the oyster tower, and just as I was about to get close to her, I beckoned to another waiter bearing glasses of wine and mocktails. As soon as he was near enough, I picked up the red wine. He went on forward, then I discreetly stretched my leg forward, and the waiter’s tray fell into my oyster-obsessed mark before they both collapsed into the ice sculpture, and they all fell down with a loud crash. People nearby tried coming to their rescue, and already my target, whose satin white dress was already red from the red wine I had earlier picked, was screaming and hurling insults at the poor waiter. We all rushed to get her up, and while others were trying to get her off the ice, I was the closest to her, and I already easily unfastened the necklace and stuffed it immediately inside my lace glove before pretending to help and backing away as soon as I saw how crowded it was. I was already walking and moving far away from the scene while transferring the glove and the necklace to the barely visible pocket attached to my dress. Mission successful, if you asked me. I picked up an idle mocktail from a tray probably dropped by one of the waiters who went to help the fallen Madame. As soon as the cool liquid touched my tongue, I breathed out in relief and was about to exit when a larger and harder body suddenly obstructed my way. I raised up my head, and damn if he wasn’t tall and absolutely masculine in a way that kind of dwarfed me, and I wasn’t easily intimidated. I swerved to the left; he did the same, still blocking my route. I tried the right side; same. So I stopped and met his gaze. “Get out of my face,” I snarled with a fake smile. “And why should I do that?” His deep masculine voice sounded like he was amused or something. I let my hand rove down my dress, and within the blink of an eye, I already had my pocket knife positioned in his midsection. “Nice one. That was quick.” “Get out of my way,” I repeated coldly, this time all attempts at fake courtesy long gone. “And if I don’t?” He asked lazily, like he had all the time in the world. “Then this knife will end up bursting you open. I’m sure you don’t want that.” He stepped closer, and the knife pushed further into his tuxedo. He stepped in until there was no space between us, and he bent so his mouth was to my ear. “Then what will happen to the necklace I saw you pick just now?”