Chapter Eight
729 Words
Three hundred and fifty thousand euros,” the auctioneer announced, his voice crisp and theatrical.
“I swear, some of these people have too much money,” Vee whispered, leaning in. “That’s enough to fund my online shopping addiction for, like… two months.”
Kimberly smirked, swirling her drink. “That’s adorable. My mother once spent twice that on a chair she never even sat in.”
Vee gasped. “What kind of chair? Does it cook for you?Perform exorcisms or give orgasms?”
I shook my head, laughing despite myself. “If it’s from your mother’s collection, I’m sure it’s some historically significant, artistically profound”
“It’s a chair,” Kim deadpanned. “A freaking chair.”
Vee clutched her chest. “I think I just had a stroke.”
Before Kimberly could respond, Vee suddenly set down her champagne. “Alright, ladies, I need to pee.”
Kimberly sighed. “Now?”
“Yes, now. Unless you want to see what happens when I hold it too long.”
Kim rolled her eyes but stood up. “Fine. Let’s go.”
I followed them, weaving through the glamorous crowd. We passed gilded archways and massive oil paintings until we hit a hallway that was noticeably quieter. The opulence faded, the chatter from the auction barely a distant hum.
Vee glanced around. “Okay, this is not the way to the bathroom.”
I frowned. “Vee, how do you get lost in a straight hallway?”
She turned in a slow circle. “It’s a gift.”
Kimberly sighed dramatically. “We should just ask someone.”
But before she could double back, Vee’s curiosity got the better of her. She wandered further down, stopping in front of a door slightly ajar. Inside, dim light flickered.
“Vee, no,” I warned.
But it was too late. She peeked inside. Then immediately gasped and yanked me and Kim down beside her.
I barely had time to register what was happening before I caught sight of the scene inside.
A group of men stood around a long table. Stacks of money were being counted, sleek black cases lay open, revealing priceless paintings. The atmosphere was tense.
One man, sharply dressed but radiating something undeniably dangerous, spoke in Italian. Another, a little less polished, responded with something I didn’t understand.
Then, everything shifted.
A hesitation. A wrong move.
The sharply dressed man gave the briefest nod and in the next second, three silenced gunshots rang out.
I clamped a hand over my mouth as two men collapsed. Blood pooled on the marble. The air turned thick with something invisible but suffocating.
Kimberly inhaled sharply. Vee looked frozen, her eyes blown wide.
I reached for them, barely whispering, “We need to…”
Then Vee, in the most Vee way possible, bumped into a small metal cart. It rattled, clanging against the wall.
The silence after was deafening.
The men turned.
Their eyes locked onto ours.
A beat passed.
“Merda!,” one of them muttered in Italian, which I assume is a curse directed at us.
I grabbed Vee’s wrist, already preparing to bolt, but before we could so much as take a step two men were on us.
One pressed a hand to my shoulder, stopping me in place. Not aggressive, not yet, but a clear warning.
I swallowed hard, pulse hammering. “Look, we didn’t see anything.”
The man raised an unimpressed brow.
“Okay, we saw a lot,” Vee corrected, “but we can totally un-see it.”
Kimberly shot her a glare. “Vee.”
“What? I’m just saying, we’re very forgetful people. I forget my passwords all the time.”
The man who seemed to be in charge said something in rapid Italian to the others. One of them pulled out a phone and made a call.
Before I could protest, one of the men took me by the arm, firm but careful. They weren’t rough, but they weren’t giving us a choice either.
Vee turned to the man holding her. “You know, kidnapping is very 2010. These days, people just block their problems.”
The man sighed and muttered something under his breath.
Kimberly looked like she wanted to strangle her.
I didn’t know where we were going, but one thing was certain,we were in deep trouble.
- Writer
