MAFIA’s OBSESSION

Chapter Seven

The hum of the jet was a low, steady vibration beneath us, a constant reminder that we were currently thousands of feet in the air, sipping champagne like we belonged to the one percent. Kimberly stretched out on one of the plush leather seats, looking completely at home.

“So, how does it feel to be flying Bennett Air?”

Vee, reclining dramatically across her own seat, twirled her champagne flute between her fingers. “I think I was made for this lifestyle.” She turned to me. “What about you, Cleo? Any thoughts? Are you ready to never fly commercial again?”

I glanced around the private jet mahogany paneling, velvet throw pillows, a literal gold-trimmed bar. It was absurdly over-the-top. “It’s… nice.”

Vee gave me a look. “Nice? That’s all you’ve got?”

Kim snorted. “Don’t bother, Vee. She’s still in her humble peasant phase.”

I shot her a glare, but she just smirked, taking a sip of her drink.

Vee sighed. “Well, I have officially abandoned my middle-class roots. I’m not going back.” She gestured to the flight attendant. “Excuse me, do you guys offer a residency program?”

Kim laughed. “You’ll have to marry rich, babe.”

Vee sighed, swirling her champagne.

Kim shook her head, laughing. “Well, you’ll have plenty of opportunities to meet rich, mysterious men in Naples. Tonight’s art auction is the event of the season.”

I tilted my head. “So, tell me again what exactly makes this auction so special?”

Kim leaned back, twirling her champagne flute. “It’s not just an art auction, it’s “the” art auction. Only the richest of the rich get invited. Think old money, dangerous money. People with private collections that no one even knows exist

Vee’s eyes lit up. “So, like… secret treasures?”

Kim smirked. “Something like that.”

I frowned. “Wait, are we actually going to be bidding on anything?”

Kim rolled her eyes. “Cleo, sweetheart, do you think I’d let you financially ruin yourself in front of the European elite?”

Vee snickered. “She does have a track record of making bad decisions.”

I buried my face in my hands. “I hate you both.”

Kim patted my knee. “You love us. And anyway, you’re here to have fun, not spend money. Just enjoy the atmosphere. Maybe make some dangerous eye contact with a billionaire.”

Vee grinned. “Or a mobster.”

I shot her a look. “Can we not manifest organized crime into this trip?”

She shrugged. “I’m just saying, if we happen to stumble into some dark, mysterious underworld of European crime”

Kim laughed. “You’ve been watching too much Netflix.”

Vee sipped her champagne. “Or not enough.”

By the time we arrived at the Palazzo dell’Arte , the city of Naples was bathed in golden lights, the streets alive with the hum of luxury cars and murmured Italian. The auction house itself was a masterpiece of ornate balconies, towering archways, and an air of undeniable exclusivity.

Kim strode ahead confidently. “Try not to look too impressed.”

Vee whispered to me. “So, act rich and slightly dead inside?”

“Exactly.”

Inside, the atmosphere was electric waiters in crisp suits floated by with trays of champagne, and every guest looked like they’d just stepped out of a Forbes spread. We’d had just enough time to get ready for the auction after arriving at Capodichino Airport where a driver, an old Italian man in a perfectly pressed suit, took us to the Bennett Villa.

Why do I feel like we’re about to enter a secret society?” Olivia whispered, nudging me with her elbow.

I didn’t respond. My eyes were too busy drinking in the exclusivity of it all, the polished marble floors, the impossibly high ceilings, the decadent chandeliers that cast a golden glow over the room, it all screamed luxury.

“This place screams generational wealth,” Kimberly said, linking arms with me. “You two better behave. I actually like my parents’ connections.”

Vee gasped, feigning offense. “Us? Behave? Kim, I’m shocked. Shocked! She wasn’t.

We were at an invite-only auction in a private estate just outside Naples. Kim had gotten us in, thanks to her family’s wealth and reputation. I know this is one of her many plans to get me out of my shell and considering art is my passion I’m very much impressed.

I ran my fingers over the stem of my champagne glass, my gaze scanning the art pieces displayed along the walls. My attention caught on a particular painting, The Lady in Blue. Something about it tugged at me, but I couldn’t put my finger on why.

“You’re staring at that thing like it owes you money,” Olivia mused.

I couldn’t pin point exactly why that piece had such a hold on me. I would never in a million years be able to afford it and yet I was drawn in all the same. There was something undeniable captivating about it, maybe the confidence in the woman’s eyes the way they seemed to look back at me like they knew something I didn’t.