Page 62 of Consequences
The timing of everything took a bit finagling, but the drivers of both cars deserve an award for being able to make it work.
We pull up to the event at the same time as the Martelli car, and James has Daddy and I ready and waiting for when it’s Sarah’s turn in line.
Her driver opens the door, and I step forward to help her out of the vehicle. “You clean up nice,” I comment, as I take her hand and pull her onto the sidewalk next to Daddy.
Her aubergine colored dress is gorgeous, accentuating every curve in a tasteful way, and helps her fog gray eyes stand out. Her hair looks shiny and soft, and I wonder how much product she had to use in order to get it like that.
“So do you.” She looks me up and down, and when her eyes meet mine, there’s something there that I feel the need to brace myself for. “Do I actually get to learn your first name now? I assume the people here don’t call youDoc.”
I laugh. “Not on your life. You can call me Wescott if you need to. Though I’m sure all the available men, and probably women, will be hopeful you’re alone, and won't care who you walked in with.”
Her lips curl in distaste, but she can’t necessarily disagree. “Shall we go in?”
I offer my arm to her, and Daddy takes mine on the other side. Together, we walk into the venue, trailed by James and the Martelli guard that Allesandro sent.
Inside is just as pretentious as I assumed it would be. Everyone is dressed in their finest, as if being invited to the event isn’t already a glaringly obvious sign of how much wealth one has. No, the exorbitant amount of money you need to donate to be offered an invitation isn’t enough, you must also dress in ridiculously expensive clothes and jewels, and heaven help anyone who doesn’t wear therightdesigners.
It’s enough to make me want to stab myself—after killing everyone else first, of course. Normal people might question how I could turn my back on all this. After all, my parents were never abusive, just cold and indifferent, and cared too much about the wrong things. Why would I care about being loved when I could have all the money in the world and the connections that go with it?
“David is already here,” Daddy says softly, nodding to where his cousin is holding court at a table.
Letting go of my arm, Daddy leads the way, and I happily ignore the stares we get as we pass people who know who Daddy and I are. I recognize a few faces from previous events, and those who were at the country club when we kidnapped Cor.
Good.That’s what we wanted. To see and be seen, and hopefully, the right people will say the wrong thing and make our jobs easier.
When we approach the table, David’s smile goes from pleasantly fake to real. He doesn’t hesitate to hug Soren, and says something in rapid-fire Russian that has Daddy shaking his head. Nobody else knows Daddy doesn’t speak the language, but the ruse is enough to get them to excuse themselves, leaving the four of us alone—which was the plan.
“Something you wanna tell me, Sory?” David asks, looking between Soren and Sarah.
Daddy laughs and shakes his head. “David, this is Dr. Sarah Ranlen, she’s an administrator at one of the hospitals, and associated with the Martellis. Dr. Ranlen, my cousin and heir to the Petrov Bratva, David.”
Sarah drops my arm to take David’s hand, looking less than impressed when he presses a kiss to her knuckles.
“Dr. Ranlen, so nice to meet you. If you ever get tired of playing with the Italians, give me a call, yes?”
“You don’t even know if I’m a good doctor,” she replies cooly.
David smirks. “If the Martellis are anything like the Amatos, then I know they only work with the best. They’ve poached my cousin, after all.”
A server comes over with flutes of champagne, and Daddy sighs when I grab one, but doesn’t say anything. He just takes his own with a small smile and a “thank you.”
“Anyone interesting here?” Daddy asks.
“Few key players on your list—whoever gave you those names knows what they’re doing. Some people I didn’t expect have shown up, including your parents, Doc.”
Dammit.I didn’t plan on that. This isn’t my mother’s usual event, so I counted on it being an easy night of, hopefully, getting what we need and escaping with only rumors of our outing to go off of.
“Great.” I plaster on a fake grin and hold on tight when Daddy reaches for my hand.
David checks his watch. “We have some time before dinner, I highly suggest you make yourselves known and start getting people interested in you. The ones who are most likely to have the information you want are busy holding court with far more important people right now, but if you make yourselves desirable—thepeople to talk to—you’ll have more luck getting close to them.”
“Thanks, David,” Daddy says. He sets his glass down and reaches for mine, though I’m far from done with it. I pout, but let him set the glass on the table. “We’ll be back.”
“If you let me know what you’re searching for exactly…”
I shake my head. “The Bratva already knows too much,” I tell him mildly. “All due respect, we’d prefer to keep our tab down from now on.”
“Understood.”
