Entangled With The Mafia

Chapter 16: Party

Amelia

"Amelia," Devon says when he answers the phone. "You know you're not supposed to call unless there's an emergency. Someone could be listening."

"This is an emergency," I stop in front of a boutique. "Damien Keller invited me to his party. Personally."

Devon's quiet for a good long while. "f*****g hell. I knew I could count on you. Where are you now?"

"At the mall. He gave me the day off so I could get ready." He also told me to ask Nora for the details. She hands me an invitation, and the theme is gold. That's all it says. I guess that gives me an indication of what I'm supposed to wear. This is a formal event, and I need to dress accordingly.

"What do you need from me?"

"A dress. Accessories. I need to look presentable," I sigh. Then, I add, "He might not let me go if I'm dressed in rags."

He lets out a frustrated sigh. "Fine. I'll organize some things, and I'll call you back in exactly twenty minutes."

I'm halfway done with my hot dog when he calls. It's been twenty-five minutes, actually. Working with the Kellers means I must always be aware of the time. "I'm sending someone to meet you. She'll take you to the best places. Meet her at the entrance."

"Okay, I'll be right there."

Before he hangs up, he says, "Take care of yourself, Amelia. Get back in one piece, will you?"

I meet the brunette by the entrance. She's around 27, and she's so tall she has to look down at me. I can tell by how she's assessing me that she's trying to figure out my relationship with Devon, so she must be his girlfriend. I've just realized that I don't know a single detail about Devon's personal life. This woman could be his wife for all I know.

She extends a manicured hand. "Antonia."

I shake her hand gently. I freeze when I realize I don't know what name to give her. I opt for "Amelia." I regret it now, but there's no way I can take it back.

"Devon told me you have a party to attend. Do you have any idea where it will be, or the theme maybe?" Her voice is velvety and rich. I wonder if she works on television. She's dressed elegantly, and she smells like a garden of flowers in spring.

"The theme is gold," I offer. "But that's all I know. And the event has got to be formal." So she doesn't know anything. Devon hasn't told her.

She smiles, but it's strained. "We'll see what we can do."

We enter the same boutique I passed earlier, and attendants rush to our side. They ask her all the questions first, clearly because of how she dresses. She gestures to me, "She needs a dress. The theme is gold. What can you do for us?"

The first dress I try on is a showstopper. It's a turtleneck dress with gold sequins. I look in the mirror, and I think it's perfect for the occasion. I can tell she likes it, too, because she tells them to wrap it up. At the counter, my eyes bulge out of my skull when we're told the price. Antonia hands her a credit card. "Devon is taking care of it."

Next, we stop at a hairdresser, then my makeup, and by four, I'm already dressed and ready to go. Antonia leaves without saying goodbye. Perhaps Devon forced her into doing this. Nevertheless, I'm grateful for her help. I would've never been able to pull this off.

I take a cab to the lounge; I'm an hour early. When I get to the bar, Chris leans toward me. "What can I get for you, ma'am?"

I raise a brow. "Do I look like a completely different person?"

At the sound of my voice, he gasps. "No s**t. Yara? There's no f*****g way that's you." He compliments my attire, my curled hair, everything. I keep glancing at the clock, and the minutes tick by painstakingly slowly. Tonight might be the night. I have to make it out alive with that name, and I'm determined to do so.

When Damien and Ethan emerge from the office, I stand up to meet them. They walk right past me, though Ethan spares me a glance. They're heading toward the exit, so I follow them. I glance at the watch, and once again, I'm glad I came early, because they seem to be in a rush.

Damien stops at the doors, "Where the f**k is that Huxley girl?"

"Right here, Mr. Keller."

He turns around and stares at me. I don't know how long we stood and looked each other in the eyes. I begin feeling inadequate. Maybe I haven't adhered to the theme; perhaps my outfit is too much or too little. He gives me a once-over, then inclines his head. "Huxley?"

I gulp. "Yes?"

"You're on time today. Good." He glances at his gold watch. "We were going to miss the flight."

I get in the car with them, and they drive to the airport. Nothing is said during the ride, and I wonder if it's because of me. I wrap my hands tightly around my new clutch to ease my discomfort.

I've never been in a helicopter before.

I marvel at the sights. Despite my anxiety, I somehow manage to enjoy the trip. Devon's right. Wherever we're going is far from civilization. I'll be on my own here. If I get into trouble, no one will help me.

We're informed that the helicopter will land soon. My nerves kick in, and butterflies erupt in the pit of my stomach. It's now or never.

We get into a black SUV, no doubt heading to his residence. Again, the silence is agonizing. This isn't how I imagined it would be. He doesn't even talk to Ethan. I focus on the view outside the window and say a small prayer.

The car slows in front of a massive home. It's a palace. It popped straight out of a home decor magazine. There's a fountain and pond, and I see fish swimming at the bottom. It's like something out of a dream.

I follow them into the home, and my jaw drops. It's like I've completely forgotten about my task. I can't stop looking. The luxury, I didn't think people could live like this. This man has millions. And Devon says he has multiple properties in the name of trusted people. No regular job would get him this much money.

We walk through massive rooms until we reach double doors. Damien eyes me once and says, "Welcome, Miss Huxley. I hope you'll enjoy yourself." He twists the knob and reveals the party. I wasn't expecting to see this many people. This is the opposite of what I thought this 'event' would be. This isn't an event; it's a gala.

Most people here must be guests, but there are also waiters and waitresses, bartenders, and the band. The music is lively, and they play an instrumental version of a popular ballad. It makes me wonder where they all came from. How many helicopter trips were necessary to get them all here?

The theme sure is gold. Everything's gold. From the tablecloths to the ornaments. Everything. Everyone's dressed in different shades of gold. I thought my dress was extravagant. It must be the simplest in this room. As we get further into the massive hall, I soon lose sight of them. Now, I'm standing by myself with a glass of champagne, watching the party with a bit of despair. I have one job to do, but many people are here. So many men. How will I know which one is the one I'm looking for? Especially when I'm standing here by myself.

I've lost sight of Damien or anyone in the family. I did, however, see Theo surrounded by a group of men. She cut her hair short, really short, but she still looks great. She'd look beautiful in rags, that woman. But they're too young to be working for the government. My target should be an older man in his sixties or seventies. But I'm just grasping at straws. It could be anyone, of any age or gender. I underestimated just how difficult this was going to be. Now, I'm standing like a fool, shaking in my heels and pretty dress.

Another waiter approaches me. "Canapé?"

I shake my head. I have no appetite. This isn't time to eat, and it's time to act. I start pacing around tentatively, taking note of all the older men here. There are many of them, so I will begin with the first table. I linger around them, and I realize they're Italians. They're speaking Italian, too. I don't understand a thing they're saying. I do hear a name, though. Luigi Ricciardi. I take note of it. Every single name has a chance of being the one.

I take another spin around the ballroom. It is a ballroom. I can imagine massive parties being thrown here, as extravagant as this one. The laughter, the luxury. The elegant dishes being served. Salmon and tuna garnished to perfection, dishes that look like they belong in an art gallery. Panna cotta is served in small, round glasses. This truly is something straight out of a dream.

I spot Damien. Elizabeth's by his side, of course. She always is. They're seated right at the center of the room. Ethan is there too, besides a woman I've never seen before. Damien is leaning closer to a man. I can't see who he is, but I get curious. Could this be the man I'm looking for? I have to find a way to get closer to that table. If I could see his face, at least, I'd get somewhere.

I start getting closer to the table. If I can just get to the other side, I'll see his face. I start pulling my phone out. No one's watching me. I can easily take a picture of his face and act like I'm taking one of the venue.

I manage to snap the picture just as the man looks at me. I nearly drop my phone. He sees me, and his smile widens. He looks like a wolf staring at me. He raises his hand and gestures for me to come closer. I look sideways, hoping to find some escape. But when I turn back, Damien's looking at me, too.

He calls my name. "Huxley!" I hear him. He says it loudly enough. Elizabeth turns her head to look at me, too. Her face contorts instantly. The smile melts from her face.

I approach the table, feeling like I'll fall at any moment. It wouldn't be a bad idea, falling and crushing my skull against this marble floor. Anything would be better than facing this man right now.

"Huxley," Damien begins. "Surely you remember Mr. Pascual."

I gulp. How could I f*****g forget?