The Masquerade Ball (3)
Michael flashed a wide grin as he guided Sulien through the cluster of guests, weaving toward a cozy section set apart from the rest of the gala. He gestured toward a plush velvet settee, deep burgundy and gilded at the legs, that was placed conveniently beside the walls of the room.
“Make yourself comfortable,” he said still smiling, “I’m sure the Orlovs will be here soon”
Sulien hummed in response. He wasn’t the type to wait. On the contrary, people waited for him. And yet here he was, lounging like a guest in someone else’s territory. He sat with one leg crossed over the other,fingers brushing over the velvet absently. His eyes flicked towards the dance floor, thinking how long he’d allow this before getting bored.
Just then, a ripple of commotion drew his attention. Across the ballroom floor, a figure in pale silver fabric swept through the crowd, men and women parting like curtains. A woman walked through, tall, statuesque, draped in diamonds that caught the lights of the chandeliers like icy stars. Her clothes clung to her skin elegantly, defining the curves of her body, blonde hair draping to the side of one of her shoulders. She wore a mask of fine filigree, but her red-painted lips were curved into a smile.
It was Valeriya Orlov.
Sulien recognized her from the numerous research he’d done on the Orlovs. A name many already knew, she didn’t hide or do things in secret but still no one could come for her. The daughter of the Orlov Bratva’s patriarch, Valeriya Orlov, famed for being both the family’s diplomat and its quiet executioner. Sulien’s eyes narrowed fractionally and cocked his head slightly, a spark of interest in his gaze.
Valeriya glided closer to where Sulien sat near the far edge of the ballroom. Michael stepped forward with a politician’s grin, bowing slightly and extending his hand.
“Miss Orlov,” he said smoothly. He took a hold of Valeriya’s hand and kissed it lightly “Your father’s influence precedes you. Welcome to Ainsworth Hall.”
Valeriya inclined her chin, her smile growing wider. “Councilman Ainsworth,” she replied, her thick Russian accent oozed out but edged like a razor. “A lovely gala. I was beginning to worry the British had forgotten how to throw a decent party.”
Michael let out a strained laugh, not daring to anger the woman in front of him. “The Orlovs are always welcome. Let me introduce you,” He gestured toward Sulien. “This is Rhys Vargrave, an associate of our mutual interest.”
Valeriya turned her eyes to Sulien. There was a brief flicker in her expression, like she was assessing prey.
“Rhys Vargrave,” she repeated. “What a unique name.”
Sulien smiled and offered a polite half-nod. “It serves its purpose.” But he did not stand to greet her.
Valeriya squinted her eyes at him and stepped closer, ignoring Michael completely. She leaned in slowly, one knee sinking into the plush sofa, a hand resting on the board to steady herself. Her voice dipped, smooth and sultry. “And what purpose might that be?”
Sulien’s lips twitched faintly at the closeness of the woman, the strong scent of perfume wafting through his nose. “To ensure conversations like this remain private.”
Valeriya paused for a while then laughed. “Careful, Mr. Vargrave. Flattery so often come in the same breath as danger.”
Sulien tilted his head, not in the least fazed by her words. “I suppose it depends on whether you intend to kiss me or kill me.”
Valeriya’s eyes sparkled above her mask. “Is that a request?” she grinned, moving even closer.
Michael cleared his throat loudly, clearly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken. “Perhaps we can all sit and discuss the trade terms in private,” he interjected, trying to steer them toward diplomacy.
Valeriya’s eyes flicked dismissively to Michael, then back to Sulien. “Later, perhaps.” She simply said and stood up, walking and sitting opposite to Sulien.
Michael breathed a deep sigh. He wasn’t sure if this was supposed to be how it goes.
Meanwhile, somewhere in the crowd, Jamie was still trailing Grimm with no subtlety like a determined puppy through the marble corridors.
“Hey!” Jamie called, half-jogging to catch up. “Listen, man. What’s your name again? Adriel, right?”
Grimm didn’t even turn his head. It was almost like his sole purpose was to lose this persistent tail he had picked up.
Jamie threw up his arms. “I’m not sick, you know! Just a tiny bit curious. You don’t have to avoid me like the plague”
There was still no response from the other party.
Jamie fell into step, barely catching up beside Grimm. He glanced up at the taller man. “So… you bodyguarding that other guy? Mr. Death Stare? Because if you are, wow, you’re doing a pretty great job. He’s terrifying.”
Silence.
Jamie clicked his tongue. He was going to crack this Adriel guy if it was the last thing he did. No one ignores him and gets away with it. “You know what, that’s fine. I’ll just… keep talking, you just need to listen.”
Grimm stopped suddenly, his eyes finally slid sideways, pale and glacial. “Please don’t.”
Jamie gasped, eyes wide with mock scandal. “He speaks!”
Grimm scowled, already regretting indulging this stray dog. He picked up his pace, faster this time.
Jamie smiled to himself and quickly followed suit. “Already too late. I know you’re not mute.”
Back in the ballroom, a waltz began to swell from the orchestra. Valeriya hummed along with the tune and stood up. She walked over and extended a gloved hand toward Sulien, palm up.
“Shall we, Mr. Vargrave?”
Sulien regarded her for a long second, then set his glass aside and took her hand.
“Of course,”
They moved onto the dance floor, the crowd instinctively giving them space.
Michael, abandoned, accepted his fate and poured himself another glass of wine. He loosened his tie and immediately downed the glass in one gulp.
Sulien moved in time with the waltz, his steps smooth and deliberate. Valeriya matched him effortlessly, her body fluid against his, like she knew the rhythm just as well. Her smile never faltered as she leaned in, whispering things only he could hear, their bodies turning in perfect sync beneath the glitter of chandeliers.
Sulien’s gaze darkened faintly.
Jamie had finally badgered Grimm back into the ballroom, chattering the whole way.
“So how long have you worked for him? Does he pay well? Does he have any hobbies? You know what, scratch that, do you have any hobbies?”
Grimm shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Leave me alone, boy”
Jamie grinned. “What happens if I say ‘no’?.”
Grimm grunted in frustration.
As they reached the edge of the dance floor, Jamie’s attention snagged on Sulien and Valeriya dancing. He whistled under his breath. “Damn. They look like they’d tear each other’s clothes off right there.Can you also dance like that, Adriel?”
He turned to look back at Grimm only to find out that he had slipped away.
“Well, fuck me.” Jamie cursed and went on to look for his new favourite person.
On the dance floor, Valeriya leaned closer to Sulien. “I hear you’re looking for someone,” she murmured against his ear.
Sulien’s grip on her waist tightened slightly. “That’s a dangerous rumor.”
“Perhaps.” She traced her fingers along his shoulder, her smile as wide as ever. “But danger is a language we both speak. And I like dangerous men.” she sang in a playful tone.
Sulien’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes hardened.
“What do you know?”
Valeriya’s smile widened.
“Just that you’re sniffing around the Donovans. For the Ghostfather and his… Ghost heir.” Her fingers trailed off the edge of his shoulder and clasped his arm again. “You know, if we work together, he might not be as invisible as he thinks he is.”
Sulien’s mask of amusement slipped for half a breath, his eyes narrowing in interest. “Do elaborate.”
Valeriya tilted her head, eyes glittering. “Later, Rhys Vargrave” She teased, the R’s of the name rolling off a bit more on the tip of her tongue. “Come visit our table. My father would be very… interested to meet you.”
She planted a kiss on Sulien’s cheek, a small, barely visible red staining his cheek. Then she twirled away, leaving Sulien standing alone as the music ended.
Sulien stood there with deep meaning in his eyes. The gala was not a total waste of time after all, just maybe he would be able to get something useful out of all this, something actually worth his time. He turned around, reaching for his inner coat and taking out a small white handkerchief. His eyes caught sight of a tall, frail looking man with dark hair tied to a bun, at the other side of the ballroom. He knew this person, the boy who was with the other Ainsworth.
He stared for a while then smiled in conclusion. Sulien might just have found ‘something worth his time’.
He smirked and wiped off the side of his cheek, swiftly making way to where Snow stood.
The Author Has Something to Say
Sulien: Wifey, did you miss me?
XL: Not at all
Sulien: I’m sorry, hubby went to attend to some work. I can play with you now.
XL (sighting the red lip shaped mark on his cheek):…
Sulien: Wifey, come here. (Arms stretched out)
XL(eyes narrowing): …I’m going to bed. (Walks away)