Chapter 3 - The Interruption
|
The ballroom was a sea of glittering gowns and tailored tuxedos. A jazz band played loudly in the corner, masking the sound of clinking champagne glasses and hushed corporate deals.
Nell stood at the edge of the servant’s entrance, her eyes desperately scanning the crowd.
She spotted Rafe standing near the balcony doors. He held a glass of bourbon, listening intently to a local politician, his expression an impenetrable mask of polite indifference.
Nell didn't hesitate. She stepped onto the marble floor, weaving her way through the elite guests.
Mrs. Croll caught her arm halfway across the room.
“What are you doing?” the older woman hissed, her fingers digging painfully into Nell’s sleeve. “You are assigned to the east corridor. Get out of here before you make a scene.”
“I need to speak to Mr. Santoro,” Nell said, pulling her arm free.
“You do not speak to the master of the house during a gala!”
“It’s a matter of life and death, Mrs. Croll.”
Nell pushed past the shocked house manager, marching directly toward the balcony.
The politician frowned as the young maid in a gray uniform interrupted their conversation.
“Sir,” Nell said, looking directly into Rafe’s dark, calculating eyes. “I need a word. Immediately.”
The politician scoffed. “Rafe, your staff is incredibly bold.”
Rafe did not look angry. He looked at Nell, recognizing the absolute, unfiltered panic radiating from her posture. He set his glass down on a passing waiter’s tray.
“Excuse me, Senator,” Rafe said smoothly.
He placed a heavy hand on Nell’s lower back, guiding her swiftly out the balcony doors and into the cool, night air.
The moment the glass doors shut, muting the music, Rafe turned to her.
May you like
“What is it?”
“Your uncle Bruno,” Nell gasped, shivering in the cold wind. “He’s planning an ambush at the southern warehouse. Midnight. They’re going to set a fire to draw you out, and Teddy Vain has men waiting to kill you.”
