Page 58 of The Protégé

Elena left without saying anything to me. She probably saw me on a conference call, but still, she could’ve interrupted me. I didn’t mind.

She left me a sticky note with a drawing of a smiling flower. I’d stared at it for too long.

Elena was like the sunshine to my gloom and doom. Even her reaction to my inexplicable explanation of what had transpired earned my respect. She didn’t push me away like I had expected.

More importantly, I hadn’t stepped away like I had planned. I’d stepped even closer.

Clearing my head, I headed to the crowded banquet room. I hadn’t expected this many people to attend the silent auction, but I supposed the New England elites enjoyed their fashion and food. Arrow had donated some CheckMate Red and CheckMate Black to the hotel for the event.

The host standing in front of the banquet room checked us in, providing Ralph and me each with a bidding tablet and our table number.

“We’re over there.” Ralph gestured to a table with four chairs and an elegant centerpiece with glowing lights.

I didn’t know who was sitting at our table. I glanced around at the conference room, taking in the faces. Unfamiliar faces met my gaze, and I offered a courteous nod. I hadn’t planned on attending tonight’s event until I learned Samuel Donatello would be here.

He had been roaming freely even after two women were discovered held captive at his home. His lawyer got him released on a two-million-dollar bond awaiting trial. When I discovered Sam had posted bail, I directed Ralph to reach out to those girls’ families and offer them the best legal team. Their legal fees would be paid under a company that couldn’t be traced back to me.

Ralph had been tailing him upon his release. Who was the judge who’d allowed him to roam freely? I had no doubt he received an irresistible bonus. Ralph had sent me pictures of Sam living life as if he didn’t have a trial waiting for him. As if he didn’t care who was watching him. A man with this kind of confidence or arrogance confirmed one thing for me: he had someone backing him. Someone powerful was protecting him.

No one was invincible. He should also know that no one was indispensable. A man like Sam was normally a scapegoat—the man who harbored all the blame and would probably die for it.

So here I was attending a silent auction to observe a man who probably had connections to The Trogyn. Perhaps members of The Trogyn would be here tonight.

I would rather be at home, continuing my research on Octavius Rollins, the man Elena was seeing. What kind of name was that anyway? I spent too much time on her social media pages to see who he was. I couldn’t find anyone with that name. This was something I’d never done before, but I had to know her type.

“There he is.” Ralph’s voice yanked me back to the auction. He jerked his chin to the entrance. “That woman looks underage. What do you think?”

I studied the brunette with her hair piled up onto her head. Her youthful face was dolled in makeup. The black gown and diamond necklace made her appear older. The fucker enjoyed young girls. She looked like she was eighteen. According to my files, Sam was an Italian man in his fifties. He’d never been married and had no kids.

Bringing a date who could be his daughter to this event wasn’t a smart idea. “We’ll just monitor him and see who he speaks to.”

A waiter walked by with a tray of champagne and some hors d’oeuvres. Ralph and I each grabbed a champagne flute and sat down.

“Do you think he’s an elite?” Ralph asked.

“Not sure.” I sipped the champagne. “But his careless actions tell me no. An elite would be more careful. But then again, he could be an elite who believes he’s untouchable.”

But my gut told me he wasn’t an elite, he was simply working for one.

“Hello there.” A pretty brunette approached our table with her red-headed friend. Both wore fitted dresses that showed off their figures. “You must be Orion Reimann. I’m Chantel Henderson from Channel Seven News. This is my friend, Sabrina Marshall from Hollywood Chitchat.”

I didn’t want to be sitting at a table with journalists, especially someone specializing in gossip. The only reporter I trusted was the one mad at me right now.

“Are you ladies here to buy dresses?” Ralph smiled at the women.

“How can we resist exceptional designs? We like supporting charity.” Chantel sipped her champagne.

“What about you?” Sabrina asked Ralph and looked over to me.

Ralph lifted his champagne flute. “Supporting a good cause.”

“It’s important to support the community,” I added.

“No significant others for you to buy dresses for?” Chantel smiled, revealing perfect teeth.

I liked a confident woman, but this one appeared overly confident. I’d seen her on Channel 7 News. Did Elena get along with Chantel? She reminded me of my cousin, Jasper, a spoiled trust fund kid who believed everyone worked for him.

“He’s got too many to buy for.” Ralph slapped a playful hand on my shoulder, looking at me with amusement in his eyes. “How do you even remember all their names? I’d be so confused.”

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