Sybil, where the hell are you?
I knock my fist against my forehead. I need to figure this out, but I’m trapped by my role as CEO and my position as the only Rossi heir.
“Sybil, this had better be a joke. If not, I’m going to kill you for making me worry.”
With societal obligations I can’t ignore, I spend the next hour getting glammed up for the annual charity auction. At five ‘til five, I meet my mother and uncle downstairs.
“Good evening, Maria.” My mother’s lips pinch, disappointed by something. I don’t know what and I don’t care.
I’m the spitting image of my mother, except for my eyes. She wears a ruby-red gown adorned with glittering crystals. The fabric drapes her willowy frame in elegant falls and the embedded crystals glitter in the light of the chandeliers. That’s not all that sparkles.
Diamonds encircle her neck, wrap around her wrists, and adorn her fingers. The twenty-karat monstrosity, however, takes center stage, flashing its brilliance for all to see. Millions in diamonds cling to her frame, but her only security is the imposing presence of my uncle.
Black shoes. Black pants. Black shirt, tie, and jacket; he’s a pillar of black on black. His evening attire matches his black hair and coal-black eyes. A handsome man, his face is chiseled perfection, square jaw, hawkish nose, brooding brow, piercing eyes, the slightest hint of a five o’clock shadow that never goes away.
Power radiates from his body. His hardened gaze vibrates with authority, making me want to curl into myself, or slink away. There’s something wild about him, something feral. Everything about him screams danger.
Intimidation.
Power.
The air buzzes around him, a warning to beware and proceed with caution. The firm set of his lips and his hardened gaze trigger alarms in my head. There’s always been something off about my uncle.
“Maria.” My uncle takes a step forward. Grasping my elbow, he leans in and places a kiss on my cheek. “You look lovely as always.” He delivers his comment mechanically, cold as hell, and releases me as quickly as he can.
His eyes say something else entirely. Full of criticism and judgment, his cold gaze sends my pulse racing. There’s no compassion in those eyes.
“Thank you.” I keep my reply light, welcoming, and friendly. “This looks to be a great year for the charity. Do you want to grab drinks before the silent auction begins?”
“You go ahead.” Mother clutches my uncle’s arm. “We’ll be along shortly.”
Summarily dismissed, I don’t see either of them until dinner is served, which is fine by me. The meal is extravagant. The conversation cursory. Honestly, a conversation about the weather would be more exciting.
The first part of the evening consists of silent bidding on various donated items: trips to exotic locales, crates of fine wine and finer whiskey, resort getaways, jewelry, and many other things. There’s something for everyone and we expect to bring in six figures for the first auction alone. We hope to double that for the intern’s auction: the one Sybil fails to make.
She’s officially MIA and I’m losing my ever-loving mind.
I do everything in my power not to fidget. Trapped by my position and obligation as CEO, I can’t leave the banquet until the end. Even worse is the smile I can’t let slip. On the outside, I’m the perfect host, gracious and welcoming. I shake hands, laugh at stale jokes, and work the room while my insides churn and fear takes root.
Inside, I’m dying. Something is officially wrong. Days too early to file a missing person’s report, I don’t know what I can do, but I must do something.
Mother and Uncle Marco excuse themselves moments prior to the intern’s auction. I get no goodbye other than a brief fluttering of my mother’s fingers. As usual, Uncle Marco barely says a word to me.
There’s definitely something different about my mother. She’s anticipatory, almost gleeful. I can’t put my finger on it, but she doesn’t insult me one time. That alone is noteworthy.
Whatever excites her is enough to ignore her daughter. To make matters weirder, that same eagerness slips past my uncle’s normally stoic exterior. Those two are up to something.
Hopefully, it has nothing to do with me.
I close my eyes and pray my overly active imagination is just that. I hate that I’m such a worrier. The entire dinner, my stomach knots with dread. Each minute is an eternity where anything can happen to Sybil.
As with all things, eventually the Gala comes to an end. I say my goodbyes, thank everyone for coming, finish up with a short speech, then hightail it out of the ballroom and race to my office. Up the back set of stairs, I remove the constrictive ball gown and slip back into the business suit with my favorite blouse I wore earlier.
If I’m supposed to look where I last saw Sybil, there’s only one place to go, and it’s just outside my door.
6
LIAM
“Found it,” Mitzy calls out through the comms. “Veer left. You’ll see an employee access door.”
Wolfe guides Jinx over to the door Mitzy indicates. Nondescript, it’s colored the same deep, ruby red as the rest of the walls. There’s a small doorknob that breaks with the camouflage, but otherwise, there’s nothing to distract eager gamblers from the glam and glitz of the slots and gaming tables.
Lily and I redirect our bar intersection, following now, instead of leading. Wolfe puts Jinx’s back to the wall and props his hand over her head. They kiss and grope while we wait for an employee to come through the door.
Lily stands beside me, leaning against the wall. She kicks up a boot, pressing the sole against the wall. I mirror her pose, crossing my arms over my chest. Next to me, Jinx and Wolfe are a mess of roaming hands and passionate kisses.
“Here.” I hand Lily a bunch of flyers I pulled from the displays by the door. “Pretend you’re looking for what to do.”
The flyers are a mix of shows, nightlife, restaurants, and thrill rides.
My gaze shifts to Jinx and Wolfe for a microsecond, then I focus back on the crowd. Overhead, there are far too many cameras to count.
“How long do you figure they’ll have?” Like me, Lily pretends to look at the flyers, but she’s watching the crowd. “I count seven. How about you?”
“Twelve.”
“Twelve?” She arches a brow. “No way I missed that many. There are two by the bar. Four at the tables: three watch the players, the other one watches the dealers, and one by the entrance.”
Our job is to identify the security personnel working the floor. The moment Jinx and Wolfe slip away, we’re on the clock. Their presence in the employee-only areas will draw attention, but we’re prepared for that.
Not wanting to attract too much attention, I show Lily who she missed. Since coming to Guardian HRS, her mind has been a sponge, trying to soak up as much information as possible before being placed on active status.
Recently recruited onto Delta team, she’ll be working domestic hostage rescue after her orientation and training are complete.
“Two by the entrance, not one. That couple over there are undercover.”
“How …” Lily glances at them. “Ah, I see. Shoulder harnesses. She needs a looser fitting jacket.”