Illegal event
Illegal event
The car roared softly to life and began to move, slowly at first until we joined the other cars on the highway and everything started to blur with the speed. Just lights and shapes and people living normal lives while I sat there trying not to think about how stiff this dress felt.
It made me look like a twenty five year old with four companies and a charity organization to handle.
We drove maybe twenty minutes before the streets started looking different. A different route from the one we took yesterday.
At least I recognize both the familiar and unfamiliar. Wider sidewalks, cleaner everything, no shouting, no cracked walls, no shops with fading signs, this road has just buildings with names that probably cost more than my entire neighborhood. It looked and felt like an exclusive place, owned by one family.
After about five to ten more minutes of slow driving the car slowed behind another car, a black Mercedes-Maybach S680. You could already tell exactly the kind of person who owned it.
I wonder if my life hadn't turned out like this, if I'd accepted Simon's offer for internship in his father's company, maybe I'd be living well by now, with a decent car, maybe not a maybach s680 duh, but a better live that half my friends would envy.
Moretti stepped out of that Maybach first. Obviously. I knew it was him. Two guards closed in around him like he was carrying secrets in his pockets. Atleast he's got manners, he knows when to open the door himself.
He didn’t look at cameras even though I heard a bunch go off.
I was too in on my head to even notice where we are. I might not have a phone, which surprisingly I haven't even thought about, but the words of the mouth gets to people even in cages, trust me. Somehow, from people and the news I got to know about an elite event for the wealthiest and wealthiest of men and women, and seeing the location, the road before here, it does look like an event only the wealthiest can attend.
“Fix your dress,” Lissa muttered while opening our door. “And don’t talk unless someone talks to you.”
It's a stiff dress, there's nothing to fix here if it was up my ass, trust me I'd know. And if she's trying to have a small talk with me. I really do not want to hear it.
I stepped out, and the smell of luxurious and expensive colognes and sweet scent hit me first. I could literally feel it in my stomach, compared to the no name brand I had to spray on. A few of them stared at me outright as we walk into the building right after Moretti.
We walked through the lobby, down a hallway decorated with expensive art I couldn’t pretend to care about. The event hall was already buzzing softly when we entered.
Live orchestra I tell you.
This is as expensive as an event can get, and I don't even know what it's about.
Charity?
Slave trade?
Hijacked shipment or whatever it is rich mafia people and celebrities talk about.
The music was low and so was the voices of rich people talking about rich people and things. Glasses clinking, fake laughs everywhere, few sounds genuine, but we both know it's like ten percent.
We were just behind Moretti when a woman in Silver dress, tall with the perfect brown hair, and perfect everything. If worry hadn't made me think I'd be envious of her body, she looked like she dieted for a living. She smiled shortly at Moretti before glancing down at me.
“Why is she looking at me like that?” I muttered.
“Because she had a thing with him,” Lissa muttered back, bored. “And she thinks you being alive is insulting to her past with Boss.”
I rolled my eyes. “It was a rhetorical question.” I obviously wasn't asking her.
“For how long are you going to keep being a bitch?”
I'm going to guess tayt as a rhetorical question and not reply. I can keep being a bitch for as long as I want.
I looked away before the woman stabbed me with her eyes. But she was already hugging Moretti, with a sultry smile on her face.
As she pulled away I couldn’t hear what she said at first and he nodded, but I saw her glance at me before saying
“Didn't you get engaged with some rich princess?” She looked away and back to Moretti. “Did you buy this one?”
My whole face went hot with what I believed was anger and not embarrassment. A few heads turned. A man actually choked on his drink because rich people can’t mind their business.
Moretti replied instead, “How’s your father’s export deal? Last I heard, something went wrong with customs clearance. I was supposed to meet him last weekend.”
Her smile slowly fell as she cleared her throat. “That’s… being handled.”
“Good,” Dante said, already done with her. “It’d be unfortunate if your family lost more money this year, tell him I'll be visiting next month.”
She nodded, then spun around and walked away to a couple.
The rest of the night dragged on in boredom. If this was some kind of influencers party atleast they'd be some drama but being here only made me want to do one thing.
Sleep.
Everyone spoke in serious hushed tones, afraid another would hear their secret and blackmail them with it. I still don't see the reason why this event was held.
This is my first time attending such so I don't know.
I followed Lissa for the rest of the time, stood where she told me, drank nothing, ate nothing, for reasons I seriously know nothing of.
She hates me. That's a conclusion that can't be countered and we all know that.
At some point I stopped trying to follow conversations. They were all about mergers, family names, fake congratulations, deals that sounded legal but absolutely weren’t. I'd probably be interested if I was rich and all this information would've come in handy.
When Moretti finally decided he was done with the publicity, he nodded at Lissa and walked out.
Lissa nudged me. “Let’s go.”
Our car pulled up just after we got out and just in time to see Moretti's driving off into the setting sun. I slid in, kicked off my heels under the seat, fought the urge to rip the dress off with my teeth.
I look like Lissa's personal assistant.
By the time we got back to the penthouse, my head was pounding from both hunger and stress. I stood for too long.