SECRET SERVICE

Chapter Eleven

The banquet was fully packed with the world's one percent filling the ballroom in the White House. Everyone was dressed to perfection — the women in long elegant gowns and the men in tailored suits.

The room was dimly lit only by the chandelier that hung in the center. Staff could be seen moving throughout the crowd carrying plates filled with champagne without them so much as shaking when bumped by another patron.

Everyone was talking, but even then the sound was muted by the live pianist that played near the front of the room.

Gwendolyn was one of those people, talking to an elderly man that Alaric found familiar but still was non-descript. While everyone else seemed to be enjoying themselves, Alaric found himself bored, standing around like a wallflower.

He hadn't even seen his two friends who were acting as wait staff, even Cassie was nowhere to be seen and he had hoped to spend the event talking to her.

Cassie and Alaric were incredibly close even if it had not appeared that way. It was Cassie's choice, wanting to keep their distance from him out of fear of being compared.

Alaric never understood that fear because when measured up to Cassie, she would always win.

As if thinking of her made her appear, Cassie broke through the crowd with two glasses of champagne, beaming at Alaric in an uncharacteristic smile.

Alaric frowned, "Cassie? Did someone drug your wine?"

Cassie's smile dropped as she rolled her eyes, "I am not Cassie tonight. Tonight, I am Cassandra, heiress of bitcoin." She exaggerated her voice to sound as posh as possible.

Alaric took the drink from her, "I'm glad you're having fun playing make-believe."

"I am not playing make-believe, I am working." Cassie corrected.

Cassie had outdone herself tonight. She had let her dark curly hair hang down rather than keeping it in the ponytail she always had.

She wore a maroon dress that graced the floor and it was the first time since she was twelve he had ever seen her wear makeup.

"Why aren't you playing pretend make-believe with your lover-client?" Cassie asked.

"That sentence makes no sense."

"You know what I mean." She punched him hard enough in the arm, Alaric was sure to bruise, "Ouch! Nothing is going on."

"Lie again." Cassie protested, "We don't lie to each other and you know that."

Alaric straightened, "I don't kiss and tell."

Cassie's eyebrow raised, "Oh, so you've kissed?" Alaric gave her a look causing her mouth to form a perfect O.

"Really?"

"Can you not, Cass?" Alaric asked, "I am here to work and focus and you are not helping right now. Plus you're the last person I want to talk about s*x with."

Again, she rolled her eyes to face the crowd.

"I have been looking all night, she has talked to everyone in here and the only person who stands out for watching her is you."

Security was in the room but was told not to be obvious, Alaric wasn't sure if they had gotten the message due to the amount of them standing alongside the walls.

It was unrealistic to think the stalker would make it inside the White House to harm. It was likely that if they were here, they were someone Gwendolyn knew. If they were here, they wouldn't do anything stupid to cause attention and this was too perfect of a setting to blend in a crowd.

It was obvious they either weren't here or were playing the needle in the haystack.

"I see something suspicious," Cassie said, willing Alaric to follow her line of sight.

It was an older man standing next to a younger blonde woman with his hands a little too close to her rear for comfort. Alaric frowned, "Child bride?"

Cassie laughed, "Or a hard-working girl."

They both laughed aloud, "What about her with cleavage that is going to knock out the President's eye." Alaric pointed to President Peter Cavanaugh who was standing next to a middle-aged woman in a tight blue dress.

"That's the speaker of the house, Alaric," Cassie said with a deadpan voice, only causing Alaric to laugh harder at his error.

When they sobered, Cassie continued, "Your girl is looking amazing tonight."

Her words drew his eyes back to Gwendolyn who was now sharing her attention with the person she was speaking with and to.

Just like many of the other women in the room, Gwendolyn wore a blue gown, but she stood out from the crowd.

The dress she wore fell past her feet to the floor, floating behind her with every step she took due to the flowy material of the skirt. It had a slit on her left leg that led up to the midthigh that showed her leg with every step she took in a modest manner.

The top of the dress had a corset on it that cinched in her waist and emphasized her cleavage which was still covered with blue lace that matched the rest of the gown.

Her hair was in a half-up-half-down style with curls falling down her back, exposing her neck.

"She does."

"What are you going to do once you find her stalker and are no longer working for her father?" Cassie asked.

Alaric let out a long sigh, "I am not sure, I haven't thought that far yet." It was an honest answer, as he hadn't wanted to think that far yet.

To him, the feeling in his chest was real when it came to Gwen, but he had no way of knowing if she felt the same way.

She could just be a rich girl having fun to pass the time. It wasn't the line of thinking he wanted to have, but he wanted to prepare himself if that was the case.

Still, he refrained from thinking about the future too long if it was going to be one without Gwen.

"Well, I think you should tell her how you feel before this is over so that way you know how to proceed."

"And be forced to see her every day if she calls it off?" Alaric asked incredulously, "Yeah, right."

"Why do men find it so hard to just be honest? You're just borrowing your trouble."

"And how far has your honesty gotten you in your past relationships?"

The question earned Alaric another punch on the shoulder in the same spot, but this time instead of exclaiming in pain, Alaric laughed.

As he sobered, he noticed the frown on Gwen's painted red lips before her figure retreated away disappearing between the oak double doors as if the devil was on her heels.

Alaric turned to Cassie with a questioning look to see if she had noticed, and she had — shrugging in response.

"Go see what's up," Cassie suggested, but Alaric was already halfway across the room as she spoke.

Following her fleeting figure was proven to be easier said than done as Alaric struggled to get across the rest of the room and out of the same double doors she had gone through.

Alaric brushed past the same stuff she had in the half-empty hallway and managed to get up to the east wing when he realized he wouldn't get through as easily as Gwendolyn did.

He quickly grabbed an empty serving tray and entered through the servant hallway, following in the same direction that Gwen had, realizing she was likely heading to her room.

Alaric was privileged to know the location when he had his debriefing with Michael that morning.

He couldn't help but wonder what had made her run off like that and he wasn't going to give up looking for her until he confirmed it. Due to the party going on in the ballroom, the quarters were empty, much to Alaric's delight.

He hadn't attempted to exit until he was sure he was in the same hallway as Gwendolyn's room before exiting. For a moment, He thought he had gotten turned around and was in the wrong part of the house as the hallways were empty.

Alaric was confirmed to be correct when he saw Gwen approaching him, with a look of annoyance on her face.

"What's going on, where did you go?" Alaric asked.

"Oh, I am surprised you noticed." She answered, only confusing Alaric further. Gwen rolled her eyes and went into her suite, and Alaric followed.

"I am confused. You seemed to be okay and then you ran out there like you saw a ghost."

"I didn't see a ghost Alaric." She turned on her heel and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Then why did you leave, what is wrong?" Alaric asked.

"You said you would stick by my side tonight and instead, you flirted with your 'friend' you invited here. Is there something going on between you two?"

Suddenly the reason for her ire made sense. It was a look that Alaric was used to seeing his past lovers. Jealousy.

Upon this realization, Alaric began laughing. It started slowly at first and he realized his reaction was rubbing Gwendolyn the wrong way, yet still he doubled over and continued his laughter uncontrollably.

Gwendolyn went from crossing her arms over her chest to putting her hands on her hips. He was sure that she would hit him soon, and that was the thing that caused him to slow his laughter enough to talk.

"I am sorry, I don't mean to laugh." He said quickly in between his breaths, "It's just that you are jealous of my sister."

"Sister?"

"Yes, my older sister," Alaric said with a small chuckle.

Gwendolyn's eyebrows furrowed, "I didn't know you had a sister. You didn't tell me."

"Two." Alaric corrected, "I have two sisters."

Gwendolyn let out a sigh of what Alaric assumed to be embarrassment mixed in with relief. "I look like such a bitch."

"I'm glad you said it." Alaric teased, stepping towards her. Her wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush up against him.

Immediately his body reacted to her being so close.

"You were jealous." He pointed out.

"No, I wasn't jealous!" Gwen protested weakly.

"You were ready to rip my head off not even five minutes ago."

This earned him an eye roll from Gwen. Based on the blush on her cheeks, Alaric could tell she was embarrassed.

But while she was embarrassed, her reaction emboldened him. While it wasn't a direct exclamation, she was jealous because she cared.

And for now, that was answer enough. He was going to show her that she had little to be jealous about.

Alaric pulled Gwen in for a kiss, feeling relief when she melted in his arms, letting him lead the kiss. While she was worrying about him speaking to other women, he had been thinking of this.

It was lucky for him she stormed off somewhere private because now his wish was coming true.

He pushed her until her legs met the bed, making her sit down in front of him.

"We will have to keep this quick before someone comes looking for us," Alaric said.

"Well, I'm already ready," Gwendolyn said, opening her legs to show that she had not worn any underwear that night.

Alaric instantly hardened, realizing that she had already assured him he would see this realized.

Without hesitation, Alaric fell to kiss knees, pulling her in for another deep kiss while he unbuckled his leather belt, letting his pants fall with his boxers. Gwendolyn broke the kiss leaning back on the bed before Alaric stopped her.

"No," He said, "Turn around, on your knees."

She gave him a sultry smile before she turned around doing as she was told. Alaric pulled her dress aside from the slit revealing her to him. He stroked himself twice before burying himself slowly inside of her.

She had not lied when she said she was ready, her body provided little resistance to the intrusion. Alaric let out a moan that mimicked the sound of relief at the feeling. Slowly, yet consistently, Alaric began to thrust.

She covered him in her arousal as he began to pick up the pace. Gwendolyn put her check on the bed, causing the arch in her back to deepen and for Alaric to go deeper.

He was thankful that the halls were empty because the sounds of her moans echoed off of the walls. Alaric knelt for leverage, picking up his pace, knowing she was close.

Gwendolyn began spasming around him, causing his c****x to follow immediately after. He buried himself, collapsing on her back as his hips spasmed in a haphazard broken rhythm.

Alaric could feel his heart beating throughout his entire body. Both of them lay there for a moment, spent.

After several moments of silence, Gwendolyn was the first to speak, "Do you think anyone would notice if we just stayed here for the rest of the night?"

Alaric let out a sigh, pulling out of her and then rolling on the bed onto his back. "I'd say we have five minutes before there's a search party."

Security was extremely tight tonight, obviously not tight enough.

Alaric stood, making his way to the bathroom to grab a towel, quickly cleaning himself, then returning to the room to clean Gwen.

"How does my hair look?" Gwendolyn asked as they adjusted themselves.

"Amazing, just as you did fifteen minutes ago." Alaric responded, "That's also why I told you to turn around. The hair is always the giveaway."

Gwendolyn smiled at him as they went to exit the bedroom. To his relief, the hallways were just as empty as they had been before.

"How much longer do we have to stay here?" Alaric asked.

"Until the night is over. Unfortunately, this is one of 'my events.'" Gwendolyn explained, "None of these are actually mine, but my father's team says it is to make me look charitable."

Alaric laughed, "I knew all this stuff was just smoke and mirrors."

"Always has been." She said as they finally made it to the main hall before the ballroom.

"And where have you two been?" Michael's annoying voice rang out in Alaric's ears like nails on a chalkboard. Gwendolyn, the sly fox she was, easily slipped out of the conversation and went into the ballroom.

It was honestly better she had fled, or else she would give them away immediately.

"The Princess needed a moment and I thought she shouldn't go unsupervised," Alaric answered easily.

Lying for him was easy.

"What did I tell you about being alone?"

"I'm playing the girls boyfriend for Christ's sake, you'd think we would be allowed a moment alone." Alaric finally snapped.

"This playing by the rules s**t isn't for me, and I don't have to follow yours. I'll remind you it's Mr. Cavanaugh I work for, not you."

"President Cavanaugh." Michael corrected, though the rest of his demeanor seemed unphased.

Alaric narrowed his eyes at the man, trying to figure out what he was missing about him.

"Have a nice evening, Michael." He said dismissively before returning to the party. If that man wasn't on his list before, he certainly was now.

~*~

It took nothing to get inside the brick townhouse. Well, that is if nothing meant camping out four blocks away, for the past six hours, watching the shift change of the guards who thought they were so inconspicuous and crawling through the cold dirt — a feat which too forty-five minutes alone.

The upside was that they were sure that she had more than enough time to be alone. She had attempted her move the moment she saw Gwendolyn step out of the house with Alaric by her side.

She had done her due diligence to make sure she had ample amount of time, not rushing has she had been before when she had left the flowers. While — in her opinion — the apartment was poorly decorated it's bones were the picture of understated elegance. While the crown molding created warmth, she had decorated it to be modern.

She traveling through the kitchen searching through the fridge before finding herself a bottle of wine, forgoing a glass and drank it directly from the bottle.

"Hm, vintage." She mused.

She admired the kitchen, though small it was ideal. At the bar, there were three stools sitting, but nearly all of the bottles were emplty or just not worth trying.

She climbed the stairs to the room, observing the large bed which had still been unmade. She could only imagine with the 'not real' real couple had been doing moments before. The closet doors were slightly ajar, revealing a meticulously organized wardrobe that looked like it belonged to someone who had never known the stress of running late.

And that someone was Gwen. The woman who owned this townhome, this little 'slice of heaven'. She was someone who had clearly made all the right choices, or at least, that's how it seemed. Actually, she hadn't made any choices, she just so happened to be born this lucky. The privledged b***h likley never knew heartbreak or greif.

How was it fair, the narrator mused, that she had all this? If only she had played her cards right, if only they had taken a different path, maybe it could've been them enjoying this life. But instead, here she was, standing on the outside, looking in while covered in dirt covered clothes, consumed by a jealousy they couldn't quite shake off.

The more she lingered in that townhome, the more the envy gnawed at her, festering into something darker, more dangerous. It started as a small flicker of bitterness—just a passing thought that maybe Gwendolyn didn't deserve all this, that maybe it wasn't fair for her to live in such luxury while others, while she, scraped by.

But as she took in the polished surfaces, the perfectly arranged furniture, and the peaceful quiet of the place, that flicker grew. How was it that Gwendolyn had everything handed to her on a silver platter? She clenched their fists, nails digging crescent moons into her palms, as the thought that began to calm her nearly made it all go away, she had the opportunity right in her pocket — the truth, the reason why she was here.

It was almost too easy to imagine it—one swift action and all this beauty, all this perfection, could be shattered. The fragile glass vases, the pristine white linens, even the soft, glowing lights—they could all be smashed, ripped apart, plunged into darkness. And Gwendolyn, with her innocent smile and her calm, untroubled demeanor—what would she do if someone took it all from her? How would she react if, suddenly, this safe, beautiful world of hers was invaded, overturned, destroyed?

She could see it so clearly, the betrayal that would flash in her eyes, the desperation as she realized how quickly it could all be ripped away. Her breath quickened with the thought, an unsettling thrill running through them.

Maybe she needed a reminder that nothing in life was guaranteed, that her perfect little world was as fragile as the glass ornaments on her shelves.

As she stood there, in the midst of everything they coveted, a sinister idea took root. She would show her just how quickly it could all crumble.