Page 37 of A Pawn in the Game
“Mm-hm,” Luka mumbles in response.
Fear bubbles low in my stomach, but something else blooms, too. Excitement. I haven’t been outside in weeks. Even though I typically have to force myself to get out of the house, today I stare out the window, committing every detail of the outside word to memory. It’s dark, but the streetlamps illuminate enough for me to see our surroundings.
The road is deserted, meaning we’re obviously on the outskirts of the town. It takes us exactly fourteen minutes to reach the first traffic light. I know this for sure, because I have a clear vision of the clock in the car.
A clock.
I haven’t known what time it is in weeks. I’m trying to split my attention between watching the digits on the clock change and noticing everything around me. A weird sense of déjà vu hits me. The last time I’ve watched the world with such childlike wonder, I was an actual child. My parents and I were driving to the mountains, and my mom was pointing to everything around us.
“The trees are beautiful!”
“Look at the cows!”
“This rock looks like your dad!”
I remember staring, wide-eyed, at everything she pointed at, thrilled with the world around me. In love with the world around me.
It was her.
She was light, and sunshine, and happiness. Moisture pools in my eyes, remembering.
She was magic.
And I’ll never feel her magic again.
A lump forms in my throat as I push my nails into the palms of my hand, trying to relieve some of the pain. I notice Luka’s eyes on me, which makes my heart race, but before he can mention anything, the car pulls to a stop.
Leon, Luka, and I exit the car one by one. “I’ll park the car and meet you inside,” Ivan says, declining the valet’s offer, and drives off, leaving the three of us alone.
The chill air hits my mostly naked skin, and goosebumps erupt. Luka pats his pocket, extracting a cigarette before lighting it, while Leon taps on his phone.
“How many men do we have inside?” Luka asks.
“Five. But it’s just a precaution. They would be stupid to start something here.”
My goosebumps turn to shivers, making my teeth chatter. Exhaling a cloud of smoke, Luka looks my way and notices I’m freezing.
“Shit,” he murmurs, taking his jacket off and placing it over my shoulders sooner than I can protest.
His brother shoots him a puzzled look, but Luka ignores him, focusing on his cigarette. The relief is instant. The jacket is huge, so it envelopes me fully, giving me much needed warmth. It doesn’t smell bad, either, the faint scent of tobacco and spicy cologne drifting into my nostrils.
Once my body temperature is no longer concerning, my gaze lifts to see where the hell we are. The imposing building in front of us is one of the most exclusive ones in the city.
“What is this event?” I ask, disappointed with the fact I haven’t asked this sooner.
“The Mayor’s Ball,” Leon responds with a smirk.
My breath hitches. “What do you mean, the Mayor’s Ball?”
I don’t get an answer. Rather, Luka wraps his arm around mine and gestures for me to walk up the massive steps. “You are not to leave my sight for a second. Got it?” he whispers in my ear, and I shiver again.
I nod, my mind reeling with information I’ve just received.The Mayor’s Ball?
I know politics and corruption go hand in hand, but I always thought it was an underground thing. Suspicious deals made behind closed doors. But this is the Mayor’s Ball. And at least two different mafia families will be present. So it’s obviously not as hidden as I assumed.
The luxury and the grandeur hit me as soon as we enter the venue through an ornate archway. Crystal chandeliers massive enough to kill all of us, white tablecloths that were probably hand sewn by underpaid workers halfway around the world, smiling servers carrying champagne that costs as much as my apartment. And the guests. Not a hair out of place in the entire room. Not a wrinkle un-Botoxed, not a smile un-fake. In the animal kingdom, the male birds use flashy objects or colorful feathers to attract females during the mating season, and this is no different. Watches and cufflinks polished enough to blind you when they flash them across the room. The women are no less intimidating, though. Designer dresses and tiny purses. Seamless veneers under perfectly drawn lips with just the right amount of lip filler.
I don’t belong here. Not for a second.
