Page 222 of The Devil's Fire

“She will always be my Solnishko.”

Realization struck me like a lightning bolt. The shock on my face mirrored the astonishment at what I had just uncovered.

His words echoed loud and clear in my mind as I looked at the picture in complete surprise. I examined the man in the picture again, and it slowly dawned on me that this man must be Mr. Alexei Vasiliev.

“There is no fucking way!” I almost yelled out, my eyes widening in surprise. Had my mother been in a relationship with the Boss of the Russian Mafia?!

Holy fuck!

“Wow… I did not see that coming.” I mumbled to myself, barely believing my eyes.

The more I looked at the picture, the more I thought he actually looked like Mr. Vasiliev. This new piece of information made me realize my mother was so much more than what she had made me believe.

I went through the papers, trying to gather them neatly, so I could put them back in the chest again. I would definitely have to find someone who could translate these letters for me.

Just as I was stacking the papers, my eyes caught a small envelope that I hadn’t checked. Curious, I opened it and looked inside, seeing there was another letter. I unfolded the paper, and at the same time, something dropped into my lap.

I picked it up, discovering a rather fancy black card with silver writing on it. I looked back at the letter.

My gaze shifted to the black card, seeing the name LuxePalace written elegantly in silver. Was this card some sort of invitation and would it have gotten her access to the place? What even was the LuxePalace? I had never heard that name before.

As curiosity tugged at me, I quickly got up from the couch, retrieved my phone from the nightstand, and turned it on. Ignoring the missed phone calls and messages from Michael, I went straight to the browser to do some research.

It didn’t take me long to find out that it was exclusively a place for the stinking rich people. LuxePalace was some sort of fancy casino hotel, and much more, just for billionaires.

A mix of fascination and confusion washed over me as I searched for the Untamed Event, trying to see when that was supposed to happen since nothing else was written on the note. It seemed my mother already knew that place and when it was supposed to be, as there was no more information about it.

Shit, my mother did a fucking good job in hiding this side of her life.

I guess you were that kind of person if you were still a part of that world. I thought she had left it for good when we moved away.

I found the date for the event and checked on my phone; I saw that the Untamed Event would be in four days. For some reason, my heart was beating fast at the thought of going there to check out the place.

I bit down on my lip, wondering if it would be a good idea or not. Glancing back at the note, questions lingered in my mind; who was N, and who was she supposed to meet there?

Maybe it could be Mr. Vasiliev?

As I kept wondering, I only ended up with more questions that might be answered if I went to the LuxePalace.

Four days.

I had four days to come up with a plan and get my ass to the LuxePalace.

seventy-four

Althaia

Four days passed in a blink of an eye, and I had spent every single day trying to come up with a plan. Yet, the reality was far from the simplistic scenario I had envisioned in my mind.

First of all, I was being watched, and it was not as if I could casually announce, ‘yeah, I’m just going to the LuxePalace to snoop around a bit because I think I might get some answers about my mom.’ Nope. I couldn’t risk getting caught and having them call Damiano.

I had to come up with a bulletproof plan and think like them. Spending enough time around Damiano and his men had given me insights that could guide me in the right direction.

Second, I didn’t know what to expect at the LuxePalace. I had told myself always to expect the unexpected, but in the underworld, that saying held no real meaning. They always take shit to the next level with no limitations to their imagination.

Third, going to such a place without expecting at least one of Damiano’s men being present would be naïve. I needed to become unrecognizable.

Bits of memories came back to me about what happened in the woods. When I woke up in the hospital, everything was a blank slate, a protective mechanism, according to Ellie. Now, details were resurfacing, some clearer than others.

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