Page 85 of Peaceful Chaos

He takes my hand and leads me toward the dance floor. "We've got a couple of minutes before he reaches us. Dance with me until he gets here. I'd really like to take you into the bathroom like the last event we went to, but at least I'll get to have you in my arms."

The corner of my mouth turns down. "The last fundraiser we went to didn't have such a good ending." Except this time it’s my father who will try to separate us not his.

A small jazz band keeps the guests on the dance floor. The music is soft enough that conversation can continue without shouting but lively enough that the event feels like a party. He takes my hand and together we sway to the music. Neither of us have attended many functions, but Sin has a natural grace and manages to keep us from embarrassing ourselves.

We don't have to look to the door to know when my father enters the ballroom. Conversation halts and hushed murmurs spread through the room. I can imagine what they are whispering about. The political rivalry alone would be enough fodder for the gossip mill, but add in the fact the opposing candidates’ children are married, and that by itself is enough to feed the gossip hounds. Tonight they are going to get so much more to talk about.

Damien swaggers across the room. His expression is bland and emotionless as usual, until he sees Sin and I dancing. For a split second his face hardens with rage, but he wrestles control of himself before anyone else notices the slip.

"Daughter, you've been very difficult to get a hold of." His mouth curves up as he amuses himself with his own joke. The double entendre isn't lost on me.

"Sin, can I have a moment alone to speak to my father?"

"It's not a good idea," he makes a show of protesting, because Damien would expect him to.

"I'll be fine," I reassure him.

"I won't go far." He looks at Damien when he says it, a threat that the weapon he forged won't hesitate to strike against him. We can't be too careful even with the backup we've got in place. Right now there are other Chaos agents, besides Javier, dressed to the nines blending in with the guests.

Once Sin walks away, Damien grabs my arm and leads me to the edge of the dance floor. I yank my arm out of his hold. His touch feels slimier than it had in the past now that I know he doesn't look at me the way a father would his daughter.

His smile turns predatory, and I can see his anger is simmering close to the surface. "You'd be smart to get back on my good side. If you think these people can save you from me, I think you'll find money can accomplish many things."

I cock my head to the side, watching him. He's just given me the perfect set up to lead him into my trap. "And you have enough money to pay a room full of one-percenters to forget you dragged me out of here against my will?"

“All you have to do is taunt him and get him talking,” Lucien told me when we were brainstorming how to deal with Damien. The plan we devised a few days ago was extremely simple. Shane worked with a Chaos tech specialist to hide a camera and microphone inside a costume sapphire and diamond necklace.

"That may prove difficult, given the net worth in this room, you're right. But, I've got more than enough to entice a waiter to point a gun at your husband. Love is a weakness, Raven."

"Thanks to you, Sin is a little hard to kill. If you think he hasn't already spotted your gunman and neutralized him then you're delusional."

"Keep him talking," Lucien's voice comes through the tiny ear piece we used when we took down Jenna. "And don't worry about the gunman. Chaos agents intercepted them when they did their sweep before you arrived tonight."

I make a show of looking around. "Although, it doesn't look like he's going to have to fight anyone. Are you sure you paid them enough?"

Damien scans the room and sees as I did that there's no one standing by to force me to go with him. A tiny flicker of anger comes over his expression, but it's gone in an instant.

"Incoming," Lucien warns. A grim faced man crosses the room heading for Damien. I know from the research we did on the organizers of the charity that this man is the head of the board and will serve as tonight's master of ceremony. He's also the one in charge of logging the contributions so all the benefactors can be properly thanked at the end of the meal.

"Mr. Blackthorne, I was wondering if I might have a word with you in private." His round face is flushed and a thin trail of sweat runs down the side of his face. I doubt it has anything to do with walking across the room, but more likely from having to confront a man that radiates death.

"Not now. Can't you see I'm in the middle of a discussion with my daughter?" Damien's temper is nearing the breaking point. Lucien said he hates being questioned, especially by those he views as inferior to him, which is pretty much everyone.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Blackthorne, but I'm afraid this cannot wait," the gentleman insists.

"What is it?" Damien snaps. Despite the suggestion this discussion needs to happen privately, my father isn't going to risk me running off.

Sweat starts to bead across the older man's forehead. "Well, you see, I'm afraid the card you gave us to cover your table fee was declined."

A vein protrudes on Damien's forehead, and he glares at the man which only makes him turn a brighter shade of red and sweat more. "That's ridiculous. Give me a moment."

He takes a few steps back and pulls out his phone. He speaks quietly, but I don't need to hear him to know what is happening. By now whoever handles his money is letting him know he's broke. Arthur managed to call in favors with a whole host of alphabet agencies, and now Damien is under suspicion of money laundering and tax evasion. Of course he's guilty, but the added political pressure helped get his accounts frozen.

It was a risky maneuver for Arthur politically. If this plan doesn't go exactly right, it will appear he's abusing his office to defeat his opponent. But, when given the choice of risking his career or his son, he made the right choice without hesitation. It doesn't erase the harm he's done, but it is a sign there's hope.

Damien storms back to where I'm standing, and I can tell he's losing control by the way his hands shake as he puts away his phone.

"What did you do?" he snarls.

---