9. Lexi
CHAPTER NINE
LEXI
“Eat one,” the man in the black suit commands, his hands crossed in front of him, and there isn’t a hint of a smile to suggest he’s joking.
“Excuse me?” I quirk an eyebrow, balancing the tray of appetizers.
Suddenly, the catering manager rushes over, clearly flustered. “Step aside,” she barks, snatching the tray from my grasp before quickly sampling one of the items herself.
The man nods, satisfied as she hurries through the door.
I shoot him a puzzled glance before retreating into the kitchen.
“What the fuck was that?” I ask one of my colleagues.
“That’s their way of making sure the food isn’t poisoned.” While it may seem excessive, I understand their precautions.
“What do you know about the clients?” I ask.
“There’s a bigwig hosting a birthday party—billionaires everywhere. I even heard the mayor is here.”
“Wow!” I respond, feigning surprise, while secretly focusing on the fact that my Brigadier is just beyond that door, and I need to see him.
“Can you cover for me?” I ask, removing my apron. “I need to use the bathroom.”
“I got you,” she says, barely glancing at me while arranging the food on the tray.
I seize my bag from the locker, quickly hurrying into the bathroom.
Inside a small stall, I slip into my elegant black dress and release my hair from its clip, letting it cascade down.
Standing in front of the mirror, I apply a bold, deep red lipstick that clings to my lips, then secure my mysterious black mask in place.
After tossing the bag into the trash can, I exit the bathroom and head back into the kitchen.
The catering staff navigates around me as if my presence might disrupt their meticulous work. I deliberately turn, feigning a sense of confusion.
“Ma’am, is there something I can assist you with?” the catering manager inquires.
I place my hand over my chest as I ask, “Is there any dairy in the food?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh, I’m glad I asked.” I lightly touch my neck, mimicking a protective gesture against allergens.
“We can prepare something special for you,” she suggests.
“Oh, no, thank you. Honestly, my dress is so snug that I wouldn’t be able to eat anything tonight anyway.”
I approach the security guard, my head held high, as if I can’t fathom why he would think of stopping me. Just as I reach for the door handle, his hand firmly grips my arm.
“What are you doing in here?” he asks, more than a hint of suspicion in his voice.
“I was just checking on food allergies,” I explain.
He narrows his eyes, weighing the truth of my words.
“She came to talk to me,” the catering manager interjects, hurrying by him with another tray, casually tasting a piece of meat as she passes.
Her affirmation puts him at ease, and I confidently follow her inside.
The room is huge and brightly lit, and the guest—mysterious, intense, and exuding an undeniable aura of power.
Valentin’s birthday party is the masquerade event to be at. If you want to be seen, this is the place to be—everyone who’s anyone is here, all dressed to impress. But who exactly is everyone?
As I take in the scene, a cameraman strides past, lifting his camera. “Mayor, picture please!”
The man in the mask secures his arm around the stunning blonde beside him, striking a pose just as the flash lights up the room.
I slip away, far from the cameraman, blending into the crowd. My mission is clear. I’m here to watch Valentin without drawing attention.
I smooth the strap of my dress—sleek, form-fitting, and subtly provocative enough to catch the eye of anyone looking.
A man hooks his arm through mine. “Baby, you look beautiful tonight,” he growls, with a gentle caressing motion down my back.
“What the fuck?” I say, shaking him off of me and turning to the man. All of a sudden, I feel as if I swallowed a lead ball and it’s currently swelling inside my stomach.
Dmitri Savin, the powerful and influential Brigadier of the Savin family, stares at me for a long, confused second. “I’m so sorry. I thought you were my wife,” he apologizes.
I raise my hands in the air and smile. “She’s a lucky woman.”
Then, I swiftly turn away and get lost in the crowd before Elise sees me talking to her husband.
I adjust my mask, making sure it fits securely as I approach the gathering crowd. I notice that most of the men aren’t wearing masks. Only the women are. They probably think it’s less masculine to cover their faces, knowing the crowd of organized men that is here.
As the music fades, an announcement captures everyone’s attention. I share their curiosity and turn toward the double doors that slowly swing open.
The crowd explodes into cheers as Valentin Volkov enters the room. He’s a tall and handsome man. His black suit fits perfectly, drawing sharp, dramatic lines against his muscular frame.
My eyes narrow at the beautiful brunette by his side, and I can’t help but crinkle my nose in disgust. I swallow and scan the room, lowering my head, fully aware that I don’t belong here. He’s a Brigadier. Of course, he would have a date, wouldn’t he?
Then a man walks in behind them, impossible to miss. Not only is he taller than Valentin, but his manner of walking also commands attention. With his shoulders back and head held high, he carries an air of entitlement, as if the world owes him something and he is here to collect it.
It’s a powerful image, one that sends shivers down the spines of his enemies and makes others think twice about crossing him.
As the partygoers murmur excitedly, “Andrei Savin,” I rise on my toes to catch a better glimpse. So, this is the infamous Pakhan.
Andrei gently wraps his arms around the woman beside Valentin and whisks her through the crowd. I take a deep breath, realizing she’s his wife.
Maybe Valentin didn’t bring a date after all, and I smile at the thought.
Valentin stands at the front of the room, a younger version of himself whispering in his ear. However, he’s focused on the surroundings, tuning out the voice as he meticulously takes in every detail of the space.
His eyes. God, those eyes, dark and intense, as if they’re looking through everyone and deciding who is worth the effort. They sweep across the room, lingering on me for half a second before moving on.
Focus, Lexi. I take deep breaths and refocus.
“Champagne,” one of the servers calls out as they glide by.
“No,” I reply without looking at them. “Actually, wait!” Everyone around me has a glass in their hand, and I need to fit in. I nod, and they promptly hand me a sparkling glass.
My fingers tighten around the untouched Champagne flute, giving the fa?ade that I’m enjoying the party. I scan the crowd, pretending to sip my drink while keeping my ears open and trying not to say anything.
Power is currency, and these men are all billionaires.
These men aren’t your average businesspeople in New York City. No, they are the elite of organized crime, capable of ripping my throat out if they even discover I am here. What’s worse is that they would do it in front of everyone and face no consequences for doing so.
And I would deserve it.
“Relax,” I mutter to myself, acutely aware of my body tensing as I stand in the midst of the crowd.
I glance at Valentin, narrowing my eyes as I watch him. In a room full of men like him, I find him the most fascinating. I can’t exactly pinpoint what makes him different from the rest, knowing only that he does, indeed, make me feel different, and I can’t deny it.
Valentin looks happy, but there’s an undeniable hint of pain lurking in his eyes, as if he’d rather be far away from here.
Then, for the second time tonight, our eyes lock briefly, as if he’s searching for me. It feels real, yet I wonder if I’m imagining it.
“You’re staring,” a woman says, her voice low and filled with warning.
The shock of her words startles me, and I barely manage to prevent champagne from splashing down my front as I turn to face her. Though she’s hidden behind her mask, her vibrant red hair and those dimples are impossible to miss.
“No, I wasn’t,” I retort, striving to sound composed.
“What are you doing here?” Ivy asks, leaning in closer. “Nikolai knows you’re the one who kidnapped the Brigadier, and he’s hunting you. It’s not the smartest choice to walk straight into the heart of the Bratva’s leadership.”
I give her a tight smile. “What does he know?”
“Not much. I can only cover for you so long before my husband finds out you’re the one who kidnapped Valentin.”
“Thank you,” I whisper. But it’s clear that her protection will soon waver, as her loyalty lies with the Bratva.
My eyes drift to Valentin one last time. Now, I find he is staring at me, fixated, almost as if reading my soul. His head is tilted slightly, as if he’s trying to figure out why I’m here.
My breath catches, feeling the weight of the moment, and I slowly turn my back to him.
“Ah, so you came to spy on the Brigadier?” Ivy teases playfully, her laughter infectious. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love with the man you kidnapped!”
“Of course not!” I shoot back.
“He’s a Bratva boss, Lexi. Walk away now before you get your heart broken,” she warns. That’s rich coming from someone who married the Colonel, despite his promise to avoid marriage altogether. “He’s not the type of guy who’s going to become your boyfriend.”
Anyway, a relationship? Like that could ever happen!
What would it be like if he were with someone like me? Dangerous, probably. He’s the type of lover who would chew you up and spit you out without even a second thought.
The mere thought sends a chill through my veins. It’s nothing more than a dark fantasy, because the man on my mind is planning to kill me.
“You should get out of here before Elise sees you,” she cautions me, her eyes darting around as if she’s searching for her.
“I shouldn’t have come,” I admit, raising my glass to my lips. As I pretend to take a sip, I feel the warmth of his touch through the fabric of my dress, making my heart race.
“Who’s your friend, Ivy?” Valentin interjects, his presence forcing me to meet his gaze.