Chapter 7 - The Gala Invitation
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The trap was set, but the facade had to be maintained.
The annual Bellucci Maritime Charity Gala was scheduled for that weekend. It was the most important social event of the season, a night where illegal money dressed up in tuxedos and bought political goodwill.
On Thursday afternoon, Selene summoned me to the main parlor.
She was sitting on a velvet sofa, reviewing seating charts with a wedding planner. She didn't look up when I entered.
“You wanted to see me, Miss Vale?” I asked.
“Yes,” Selene said, finally raising her head. Her eyes glittered with a malicious, petty cruelty. “Since you are so eager to be involved in the family’s affairs, I have a special assignment for you at the gala on Saturday.”
“I am scheduled to be off on Saturday,” I noted calmly.
“I had your schedule changed,” she smiled thinly. “You will be working the primary coat check in the grand foyer. I want you front and center when the guests arrive. It’s important that you remember exactly where you belong in the hierarchy of this world. You take our coats. You fetch our drinks. You do not sit at our tables.”
She wanted to humiliate me. She wanted me to stand for six hours in a cramped booth, taking the wet coats of the billionaires she rubbed shoulders with, reminding me of my poverty.
“Understood, Miss Vale,” I replied, my voice devoid of the anger she was desperate to provoke.
When I returned to the staff quarters, I found Lily sitting at the small table, drawing a picture.
“Mama, are you working the big party?” she asked, looking up.
“I am, sweetie,” I sighed, kissing the top of her head.
“Mr. Bellucci said you would look pretty at the party,” Lily stated matter-of-factly.
I froze. “When did you speak to Mr. Bellucci?”
May you like
“He was walking in the garden when I came home from the bus,” Lily explained, coloring a purple flower. “He asked where you were. I told him you were working. He said you work too hard.”
My heart did a strange, terrifying flutter in my chest. The most dangerous man in the city was making casual conversation with my seven-year-old daughter in the gardens. The lines between employer and staff were blurring rapidly, and I was terrified of what would happen when they finally vanished altogether.
