Chapter 20 #2
Someone moving in the booth five down from his catches my eye and my brows furrow the second I spot Senor Montenegro, the aristocrat who pushed for my execution, claiming his seat.
A woman who is not his wife is seated beside him and looks flustered, as if they are doing their best to keep hidden from the other Dons and Donas.
Rage bubbles in my gut at the mere sight of him.
I swore the day I broke free from prison I would pay him a visit.
Unfortunately, fate had other plans for me, but perhaps, this is my time to seek personal vendetta against the bastard who nearly lost me my head.
A lone man steps out onto the stage and motions for the crowd to fall silent.
"Senors y Senoras!" His voice booms, drawing eyes from across the arena to him.
"We are honored to entertain you all tonight, but we would like to invite you all to stand and welcome our guest of honor this evening: the Soberano! "
My eyes dart to the Soberano's booth and watch in awe as he struts to his throne wearing a militaristic uniform with dozens of bright colored medals pinned to his chest. A billowing red cape drags behind him as he smiles and waves to his adoring subjects.
This is the first time I've ever laid eyes on him, and I'm slightly taken aback.
I pictured him as being much older and slightly decrepit, but I find he's unfortunately in good health.
His hair is streaked with white strands, but it is fashionably styled and slicked back.
His moustache and eyebrows are still dark, reminding all of us he was once young, but even at this distance it's his weathered eyes that strike me as cruel and dangerous.
His arms raise as the applause thunders, and he soaks in their praise and worship like a deity amongst lowly mortals. All his fingers are adorned with rings crafted of gold and some boast gemstones that gleam in the modest lighting.
Rogelio's hand brushes my bare shoulder, sending a quiver down my arm. "Elena?"
It's then I realize I'm not standing and clapping, shouting sweet praise in the Soberano's direction.
I stand and join the chorus, though it sickens me to my core to do so.
I can't help but wonder if Remus is doing the same.
I spare him a quick look and I'm stunned to see him smiling at the Soberano in complete devotion.
He's played his part so well even I believe he loves the usurper.
The thought of sneaking into the Soberano’s booth and slitting his throat is oddly tempting, especially knowing of all the blood staining his hands, but if I do that, I will ruin the Venturan's schemes.
The desire to protect and avenge Remus surges through me, which is a surprising response.
After everything he's put me through, his name should be on my list of those I will be seeking my own revenge on.
After a sobering few minutes of worshiping the man who claims to be the only one who can absolve our sins, the entertainer on stage motions for us all to take our seats so we can finally enjoy the show.
The lights are completely snuffed out in the auditorium and my direct line of sight on the Soberano and Senor Montenegro in the booth beside him are lost. All I can make out are figures in the shadows.
The opera begins. The music played by the orchestra crescendos and a man and woman appear on opposite sides of the stage and break out into song.
His baritone voice mixes perfectly with her soprano and without realizing it, I'm lost in their hypnotizing performance.
Their voices are haunting and beautiful and evoke emotions in me that I've not felt in years.
Longing for love, the sting of betrayal, fear and hope all bottled in one body, in one performance.
It's wondrous what the theatre is capable of when the lights go out and the music breathes.
Movement across the theatre catches my attention and I glance at Remus' booth.
I watch in great irritation as his date slithers her arm around his and rests her head against his shoulder.
Where did he find this woman anyway? Jealousy stirs deep within me, and I force my sights to scan the rest of the theatre until I stop on Senor Montenegro's box.
His mistress is just exiting the booth, leaving him alone.
The murderous rage rises once again causing me to replay all the shit he put me through – all the shit he's not paid for yet.
Even though I know I shouldn’t jeopardize the rebellion by seeking my own personal revenge, I can’t deny myself this one pleasure. When else will I have the opportunity presented to me on a silver platter?
"Is everything alright?" Rogelio whispers and it forces me to look down at my lap where I've torn the program leaflet into dozens of tiny pieces.
"Everything is perfect," I lie, jolting to my feet. "Is there a bathroom nearby?"
"Just around the hall. I can show you – "
I motion for him to stay seated. "I'll find it. I'll be back momentarily."
Like a dutiful guard dog, he stays put as I make my way down the hall.
I have no intention of finding the bathroom.
I'm on a warpath. If I time everything perfectly, I can slip into Montengro's booth and slit his throat before anyone knows the wiser.
Everyone is far too focused on the riveting performance and with his mistress out of the way, no one will ever know I was there.
Now is my chance to do what I should have done weeks ago.
I count the entryways to each booth until I'm standing outside Montenegro's.
I look up and down the curved hallway, ensuring no one is within sight and take a deep breath before I slide the curtain open.
I see the back of his head and stop. I have no qualms in taking a life, but I've not killed a man of great status before.
There will certainly be a price to pay for his public assassination and if I'm seen at all in the hallway on my return to my seat, I will be a suspect.
Remus and Otero flash in my mind. The disappointment and anger of my rash and selfish actions marring their faces.
I should let this go.
I shake my head. When will I find myself with a more perfect opportunity to slay my enemy with a room full of suspects?
Fuck it.
I take a step inside before a hand clamps down around my mouth and yanks me backward. I'm thrust into a dark closet across the hallway, and thrown against the wall, my back pinned.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" a gruff, familiar voice hisses.
Shit.