Chapter 83 Plotting
Jade
The number went to voicemail. Oh God, I couldn't just walk up to Jeremy at Crimson and proposition him. That would be too obvious. Too forward and too desperate.
I needed a plan. I needed a plan that would allow us to naturally cross paths. I needed a strategy that would compel him to notice me and want me.
And a way to make Amelia irrelevant.
I pulled out my phone. Started typing notes.
Jeremy's weakness: breast obsession Chelsea confirmed: fixation, intense, obsessive Amelia: blind, can't compete visually Strategy: make him see what he's missing
But where? When? How?
I needed access. Needed opportunities.
My phone buzzed. A text from Sarah, one of the Crimson girls:
Boss is hosting a private party next week. VIP clients only. Santoro will be there. We need extra servers. Are you available?
My breath caught.
A private party. With Jeremy in attendance. Where I'd be serving.
Perfect.
I texted back: Yes. Count me in.
Great. Details coming tomorrow. Dress nicely—these clients expect the best.
I put my phone down.
One week. I had one week to prepare.
I had a week to strategise about how to catch Jeremy Santoro's attention.
One week to destroy whatever he had with Amelia.
This was going to work. I could feel it.
All I had to do was get close to him.
But what if that wasn't enough? What if I got close to Jeremy, but Amelia was still in the picture? What if he still chose her over me?
I needed insurance. Needed a backup plan. Needed a way to make sure Amelia wasn't a problem.
A permanent solution.
I finished my drink and left the club. I walked three blocks away to a different bar. The bar was one I had visited previously. It was a place where specific types of people conducted secret business.
The bar was dark. Grimy. It was the kind of place where people came to make deals they didn't want to be recorded.
I found him at the back table. Exactly where I'd been told he'd be.
The person I am looking for is Mick; he is in his mid-forties. Scarred face and dead eyes. He was the type of man who would do anything for the right price.
I'd gotten his number from a customer at Crimson. The customer had overindulged in alcohol and excessively discussed the various "services" offered in the city.
I sat down across from him. "Mick?"
He looked me up and down. "You're the girl who called, Jade."
"Yes."
"What do you want?"
I pulled out my phone. Showed him a photo I'd found. The photo showed Amelia departing from the Santoro estate, her white cane in hand. The photo was taken from a distance, yet it was sufficiently clear.
"This girl. I need her followed. Tracked her. I need to know everywhere she goes. I need to know who she talks to and everything she does.
Mick studied the photo. "Why?"
"That's not your concern. Can you do it?"
"Following someone? Easy. But you said on the phone you wanted more than that." He leaned back. "You want her gone. Disappeared. Right?"
My heart pounded. This was it. Yes, to the point of no return.
"Not gone. Not dead." I met his eyes. "Kidnapped. Take her to somewhere she can't be found. She will remain in custody until I provide an update."
"That's riskier and more expensive."
"How much?" I asked him.
He named a figure. It was a high amount. But not impossible for the mission.
"Half now. Half when it's done." I pulled out an envelope. Cash I'd been saving. Tips from Crimson. Money I'd earned serving drinks to men who treated me like I was invisible.
Now it would make me powerful.
Mick counted the bills, then nodded. "When?"
"Not yet. I need you to follow her first. I need to know her patterns. Her schedule. When she's vulnerable." I paused. "And I need to know when the time is right. I'll give you the signal."
"What's the signal?"
"I'll text you a date and time. That's when you take her. Not before."
"And after? What do I do with her?"
"Hold her somewhere secure. Somewhere no one will find her. I'll tell you when to let her go."
Mick pocketed the money. "got it. I'll start following her tomorrow. Send me her address."
I texted him the Santoro estate address. "Remember, she's blind. carries a white cane. She should be easy to spot.
"Blind?" He raised an eyebrow. "That makes it easier. She won't see me coming."
"No. She won't."
We finished the details. The plan. The backup locations. The communication methods.
By the time I left the Red Door, everything was in place.
Mick would follow Amelia. Learn her patterns. Wait for my signal.
And when the time was right—when I'd gotten close to Jeremy at the party, when I'd made him notice me, when I was ready to make my move—
Amelia would disappear.
I felt fulfilled and powerful.
For weeks, I'd been planning. Scheming. I spent weeks trying to figure out how to get what I wanted.
And now I had a real plan. A concrete strategy.
Step one: Get close to Jeremy at the party. Make him notice me. Remind him what he's missing.
Step two: When Amelia becomes a problem—when she gets in the way—have her removed. Temporarily. Just long enough for Jeremy to realize he doesn't need her.
Step three: Be there for him. Comfort him. Give him what Amelia can't.
Step four: Make him mine.
It was perfect. Foolproof.
And what if Amelia got hurt in the process? If she was scared, alone, and helpless?
Well. That wasn't my problem.
She'd taken something that should have been mine. She had found fortune when she should have perished in the streets.
Now it was time for her luck to run out.
One week until the party.
One week to prepare. To plan. To make sure I looked perfect. Irresistible. Exactly what Jeremy Santoro would have wanted.
Amelia didn't stand a chance.
I woke up early. Made coffee. I sat at my kitchen table with my laptop.
I no longer lived at Crimson. I'd moved out months ago into a small but decent apartment in Queens. The apartment was conveniently located near the city.
I only went back to Crimson when they needed extra servers. When they called me in for busy nights or special events.
My phone buzzed. Text from Mick:
I have started following the target. She left the estate at 10:30am with a security guard. Went to a bank. Next, she made her way to a coffee shop. Then back to the estate. Pretty boring day. Will keep watching.
Good. He was on it.
I texted back: Keep me updated. I want daily reports.
You got it.
I put the phone down and opened my laptop. Started researching.
I began researching what to wear to the party. I also started researching how to style my hair for the party. How should I present myself to attract Jeremy's attention?
I had one shot at this. I only had a single opportunity to capture his interest.
In one week, Amelia would be gone.