Page 30 of Corrupted Empire

I tip my head back and down the drink. The bubbles sizzle all the way down my throat, climbing up my nose and making me want to sneeze.

Grace smiles approvingly. “That’s a good boy.” She signals for the bartender to pour another.

“It has been a long few weeks,” I say by way of explanation as Grace slides the second glass over to me.

“I wouldn’t dream of judging you, darling. I think you should get fabulously drunk and enjoy yourself tonight.”

I doubt any amount of alcohol will lend enjoyment to the evening, but the idea of getting fabulously drunk does appeal.

The vast ballroom is decorated in shades of dusty pink and gold, which makes it look more like a children’s birthday party than a charity gala. Pink silk billows from the ceiling and the few dozen circular tables shine with gold accents. At the far end of the room, a stage is set up with a projector screen behind, where, after dinner, the guests will pretend to pay attention to the boring presentation while secretly eyeing each other up for scandal.

Grace guides me over to a quiet corner of the room, sending furtive glances in either direction.

“I heard that you and your lovely girlfriend are living separately at the moment,” Grace says.

I tense at the mention of Alexis.

“Perhaps you might be looking to indulge your appetite a little in the meantime?” she continues. “Which of these nubile society delights has caught your eye?”

I shake my head and take a sip of champagne. “None of them.”

“Is that so?” Grace cocks an eyebrow, then glances down at her glass almost shyly. “If it’s not the spring chickens you desire, perhaps you would be inclined to sample the fine old hen?”

I suppress the urge to snap at Grace. She doesn’t realize how much of a nerve she has hit with her comments, and I doubt she meant any offense.

“Grace,” I say, placing a hand on her arm. “I won’t be taking home any of these lovely ladies this evening, but you know, of course, that if I were going to, you would be my first choice.”

She giggles and fans at her cheeks as they flush. “A shame, really.”

“Indeed.” I smile. “Please would you excuse me? I need to make the rounds.”

More like I need to make my way back around to the bar.

“Of course.”

I take my leave and wander back to the bar, grabbing a glass of whiskey this time and then taking a slow lap of the room. I chat with the people I know and recognize from other events, making small talk about the weather and stocks and thedreaded current state of things.We only speak of the latter point in veiled terms. Nobody uses the wordgangsor mentions purple heroin, they are all too polite for that, but even for people used to ignoring the city’s common afflictions, there is definitely a level of uneasiness.

Grace is not the last woman I end up rejecting, but she is the most polite. The gossip has circulated, and everyone here knows that Alexis and I are living separately, and what’s more, they don’t seem to believe that we are still in love like I told the interviewer. In their eyes, I am a newly single man. Ripe for the picking. Extricating myself from the amorous intentions of several of the night’s denizens is tedious and exhausting, and I find myself missing Alexis more and more as the night goes on.

If Alexis was here, I wouldn’t be bored. I might even be having fun. She would have something amusing to say about every character we met.

Silvano enters the party after the speeches, his gray eyes slicing through the crowd to land on me at a table in the back corner of the room. At first, my drink-addled eyes mistake him for his dead brother, and my heart picks up, but he comes more into focus as he cuts across the room.

He arrives at my table and shoves his hands into the pockets of his gray slacks, eyeing the empty glass in front of me.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

Silvano tips forward on his heels. “I thought you might need a rescue.”

I swipe my tongue over my lips, tasting the last remnants of my drink, honeyed and bitter. Silvano smiles pleasantly and glances around, taking in the drunken frivolity around him. Laughter echoes through the room.

“Why did you think that?” I ask.

“Vito said you hate these things,” he replies. “From the dark cloud hanging over this table, I can see he was right.”

I glance up, as though I might actually see the cloud. I would thank it if I could. That must be why people have been leaving me more or less alone for the past hour or so.

“What’s on your mind?” Silvano asks.

---