Chapter 3

𝔻𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝕚𝕟 𝕒 𝕘𝕠𝕨𝕟

Lucas POV (𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕒𝕤𝕥...)

The lighting in the hall was dim and beautiful. It had deep hues of blue, gold and red, and there wasn't a way in the world you wouldn't feel drugged by the intensity of the atmosphere. It was simply extraordinary. If this was my kind of scene, a relaxed me might have been somewhere in the middle of the gallery, making conversation with the many beautiful ladies scattered around the foyer.

But well, it wasn't.

Truth was, I was practically invisible considering the angle at which I was lurking, and I didn't care. I haven't cared much for what people said about me in a long time, and I wasn't going to start caring now. Moreover, being in this scene at all was nothing but a benefit, or better put, a means to an end.

I leaned back on the slick cotton behind me, resting my back on a cold, yet smooth wall, a welcome reprieve from the strain I felt from my shoes. These damn shoes anyway! How I wish I hadn't taken Damien's advice. The bastard. With a sigh of resignation, I consoled myself with the thought of what brought me here in the first place.

My next assignment. Which usually meant more money.

I hoped for my sake and his, it was worth it. Because watching beautiful bodies dance around the posh floors of the foyer wasn't going to cut it if this went sideways.

I plucked a glass of sparkling wine from a passing waiter and reclined back into the shadows. Where the hell was he anyway?

As I took a sip of the sinfully delicious wine, a light caught my vision. Right there on the wooden stairs were legs, that as I began to follow up its curves, seemed to go on for days. My eyes trailed the silky smooth curves of those shapely legs until they reached knees that were barely clad with a glittering silver gown, which clung to her like a second skin. I was transfixed. Hooked on knees that wouldn't have been visible if not for the slit that cut through the side, exposing her legs along with her creamy thighs.

Fuck.

Who the hell was this?

My eyes continued their curious exploration as they trailed across her creamy thighs, up the curl of her hips, the tightness of the belly, her luscious breast, her bare shoulders, the curve of her neck and then finally, her face. This was the part that got to me, this part, besides other sumptuous parts of her, was the part that had me reeling back in recognition.

How long was it exactly? Eight, Seven years?

But God! She looked a million times sweeter than the tabloid said, than her pictures showed, damn, even more than what God intended for her I was sure.

She began her slow walk down the stairs, capturing every human attention as she did. The way she carried herself, the way she moved with so much poise and innocence was blinding. No one in the room didn't pause to breathe her in. She was magnificent, effluent, flawless, perfect and way out of my league. She was too pure to ruin. And even if she was available for spoiling, I wasn't going to be the one to do it. I couldn't be.

There was just something about her. Something that brought out the sinister part of me. I couldn't just place my fingers on it. Right from when we were kids. If Damien didn't appear soon, I might end up doing something relatively stupid.

I tried taking my eyes away from her for a second to search for him, I really tried, but I just couldn't. No one could. This kind of attraction wasn't good for business, which was why she was never going to be a job.

She glided down the stairs, her eyes down, shoulders high, fingers gripping the bannister so tightly, her knuckles turned white. This was the only indication of how nervous she was. On reaching the end of the steps, she strode into the arms of the well-built man who was patiently waiting for her with his arms stretched wide and a serious smile on his face.

If only I could get a closer look at her blue eyes. The last time I saw them they were filled with childish tears. It would be a risk, but a risk worth taking. All I had to do was slide in as her dance partner for a minute and I'll have her in my arms - for I knew I might not get this opportunity again. I began making my way to her when a hand closed over my left shoulder and I jerked back in surprise.

"Why so jumpy, Lucas?" I heard an annoying voice ask.

Ignoring the question, I turned to him, "Where the fuck is Damien? He kept me waiting out here for almost---"

"Everybody knows you hate being kept on hold." He cut in.

"More like being bored to death." I countered, then turned to fully face him. "Why isn't he here? " I asked with a growl. I was surprised Damien had sent Jude to deliver a package as important as this. Jude was just an upcoming gigolo who still had a lot to learn. Whatever Damien was playing at was going to earn him a tongue lashing and a few blows.

"He probably had some stuff to attend to. Why don't just call him up yourself and stop-," Jude almost choked on his words when he saw me taking a menacing step towards him, making my intentions know with a flip of my blazer which revealed a Glock 17 resting between my midriff.

The corners of his eye caught the weapon and widened, "I don't have a damn idea where he is." He rephrased. "How would I know, man? I'm only a messenger." He added, instinctively taking a step back.

I paused at his words, then after a second, I retreated, relaxing back on the wall. I took a sip of my Champagne before asking, "Were you able to bring the package without tripping all over yourself?"

"Yeap. Do you think I'll be stupid enough to walk in here without it?"

"Where is it?" I blurted, disregarding his question.

"Seems you are not big on trust." He muttered, an unreadable expression on his face. "I wonder how you got in bed with these guys." He added lowly. If I didn't have a sharp hearing I wouldn't have caught it.

Anger filled me. If he was talking about Damien, then I'll just have to kill him. There was only one thing I didn't joke with above all else.

Family.

Placing my piercing orbs on him, I growled, "I get into crowds I fucking want to get into. Now hand over the package." He had this look on his face. Like he pitied me or something. Whatever the reason for his strange behaviour tonight, I didn't give two fucks. All I cared about was getting that package, even if I had to slit his throat for it, right here in public. I was sure I could get away with it just fine.

"Here." He said, handing me the package. I took it from him and tugged it beneath my tux. Maybe I should still slit his throat for wasting my time. It would definitely give me immense pleasure

And draw attention to you.

Well, the last bit was what I didn't want right now. I watched him watch me for a minute before turning away and disappearing into the crowd.

After I was sure he was gone, I looked around for her and spotted her right in the middle of the floor, nestled between the arms of her father. I clenched my fingers together. It was such a shame that she would never see me. She and the world needed to keep believing Antonio was dead.

As I made my way out the back door and into the quiet alley, I couldn't help but wonder why the hell Damien had set up the meeting if he wasn't going to show, conveniently excluding the fact that Evelyn was going to be there?