Page 35 of Kings & Corruption

She tugged me toward the bar. Weirdly, Neo moved to follow and was only stopped by Oscar, who put a hand on his arm. They started to argue, but I couldn’t hear anything, and a second later, I was standing at the bar, accepting a clear drink with a faint purple cast in the bottom.

I wasn’t quite twenty-one yet — that would happen in November — but no one here cared.

I leaned toward Claire. “What is this?”

“Huckleberry Twist,” she shouted back. “Just drink it!”

I took a sip and smiled approvingly.

Yum.

I spotted Alexa Petrov holding court on the dance floor at the center of a group of mountainous men. She really was beautiful, her dark hair and tan skin set off by a white dress that hugged her perfect body.

It really was too bad about her personality.

The song that had been playing ended and a new one started.

“I love this song!” Claire squealed. I had a feeling she was ahead of me by at least three drinks. “Finish that so we can dance.”

I downed the rest of the drink and left the glass on the bar, then followed her out onto the dance floor. I started moving slowly, but the drink had beenstrong. It only took a couple minutes for the music and alcohol to work their magic.

My hips loosened, and I started really moving, the way I had at techno clubs in Paris and beachside parties in Thailand. It felt good. For the first time since I’d come home, I felt free.

Like myself.

Not Frank Russo’s daughter or Emma’s sister or Roberto Alinari’s new stepdaughter.

Like Willa.

We danced hard. I lost track of time, but at some point a couple of Claire’s friends joined us. I caught their names after several attempts to be heard over the music — Quinn was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen, with a halo of curly black hair and big brown eyes, and Erin was as tall and slender as a model, with a short brown pixie cut that highlighted her delicate features — and we proceeded to dance our asses off.

I was pretty sure half the crowd was amped up on Molly or coke, but that was no surprise. I wasn’t into it, but I’d seen plenty of it during my travels with kids my age from all over the world. Everyone wanted to party. Everyone wanted to let go.

Everyone wanted to forget something.

A couple of times I caught sight of Oscar, Rock, and Neo, but they were never dancing. Instead, I’d see them skulking around the edges of the dance floor looking like bodyguards in a Fashion Week runway show. I had no idea what they were up to, but when I spotted them huddled in a group in one of the ballroom’s corners, talking to a tall guy with black hair, I saw my opportunity.

“Going to the bathroom!” I shouted at the girls.

They nodded and kept dancing.

I checked to make sure the guys were still distracted, then slipped out of the ballroom, the music fading to a dull thump as I started down the long hall.

There were a few stragglers outside the ballroom — a couple of guys, heads bent as they exchanged something between them, and one couple having an argument — but it was otherwise empty, everyone obviously happy to be partying with their friends again.

I started down the hall, my eyes drawn to the cameras at the corners of the ceiling.

Fuck. I hadn’t thought about cameras. There were only four of them, one in each corner, but still.

Shit, shit, shit.

I slowed my steps, debated turning back, then decided I could get away with a look on the second floor where Dean Giordana kept his office. If there were cameras upstairs, I could always turn back and pretend like I’d gotten lost.

I moved to the back of the building, guessing there would be a stairwell that was less visible than the fancy curved staircase at the front of the building. That one was too visible. Anyone who entered the building would see me headed to the second-floor administrative offices.

I found what I was looking for tucked behind a door near a janitor’s closet. I opened it and started up the stairs, suddenly creeped out by the confines of the dim stairwell and the fact that no one knew where I was.

I’d made the switch back to the second floor and was halfway up the last run of stairs when I thought I heard footsteps behind me. I paused, my heart hammering in my chest, but when I looked over the railing at the stairs below, no one was there.

---