Chapter 23 Twenty Three
Mira moved toward the car, instinctively reaching for the front seat.
Safer there. Farther away from him.
Her hand had just brushed the handle when Slavatores' voice came from inside—
“Come sit with me, Miss Voss.”
Her body stilled.
Just for a second.
A small pause that said everything she didn’t want to say out loud.
She swallowed.
Slow.
Then forced herself to turn.
The back door was already slightly open.
Waiting.
She hesitated.
“We don’t have all day.” His voice this time—colder.
Mira exhaled quietly through her nose.
“Right,” she muttered.
And stepped toward the back seat.
The moment she got in, the first thing she noticed… was the scent.
His cologne.
Soft.
Sweet—but not in a childish way. It reminded her of warm vanilla, smooth and quiet, touched with something light like honey and sugar melting together with the vanilla. There was a faint freshness underneath, just enough to keep it from becoming too heavy.
It wrapped around her slowly.
Comforting. Warm. Almost addictive.
Not loud.
But it stayed… like something you weren’t supposed to crave, yet did anyway.
Her chest tightened slightly as she settled into the seat, keeping a careful distance between them.
Then she looked at him.
Properly.
For the first time since she met him… She noticed his eyes.
Hazel.
Not just brown. Not just dark.
There were lighter tones in them… almost gold when the light hit just right.
Watching her.
Mira froze for a second longer than she should have.
“Are you going to close the door?” he asked calmly.
She blinked.
“What?”
“The door,” he repeated, his tone flat.
“Oh—yeah… yeah.”
She quickly reached over and shut it properly.
“Way to go, Mira,” she muttered under her breath. “He’s a murder suspect. Don’t forget that.”
She leaned back into her seat after that.
Putting a little more space between them.
The car started moving.
And just like before… heavy uncomfortable silences filled the car.
Mira kept her eyes forward this time.
Not looking at him.
Not wanting to accidentally get caught staring again.
Her fingers rested lightly on her lap, but she could feel the tension in them.
Everything about being this close to him felt… wrong. Like sitting next to something dangerous that hadn’t decided if it wants to bite her or pet her..
Outside, the city passed by quickly.
Then slowly… The surroundings changed.
The roads got quieter.
Wider. Less crowded.
And then… The car slowed.
Mira looked up slightly.
Another mansion came into view.
Massive gates.
Tall iron bars with gold detailing.
Guards stationed outside like statues.
The building itself sat farther back—huge, white stone walls, wide balconies, tall windows that reflected the sunlight like glass mirrors.
The gates opened automatically as the car approached.
Mira’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“…Of course,” she murmured.”Rich people are doing too much.”
The car drove in.
The driveway curved around a large fountain at the center—water spilling smoothly over carved stone figures.
Luxury cars already lined the sides.
Voices. Music.
Laughter drifted faintly from inside.
Another event.
She didn’t even have to ask.
From beside her, Salvatore finally spoke.
“Today is a birthday party,” he said calmly.
Mira didn’t look at him.
Just listened.
“Of one of my colleagues,” he added. “You’re my plus one.”
That made her glance at him briefly. He didn't ask if she wanted to be his plus one. He assumed and expected her to follow his command.
Her brow lifted slightly.
“Lucky me,” she muttered.
His gaze didn’t shift.
“Since you hate my guts, Miss Voss…” he continued.
A small pause.
Then—
“Try and wear that smile of yours.”
Mira held his gaze for a second.
Just a second.
Then she looked away again.
Her lips pressed into a thin line.
“…I’ll do my best,” she said. But her voice didn’t sound convincing.
Not even to her.
The car came to a stop.
Antonio stepped out first, as always.
Then Salvatore.
Mira stayed inside for half a second longer.
Just enough to steady herself.
Then she stepped out too.
The moment her heels touched the ground, the noise hit her properly this time.
Music.
Laughter.
Voices blending into one loud, polished atmosphere.
Different from the charity ball—but not by much.
Same energy. Same fake perfection.
The mansion looked even bigger up close. Marble steps leading up to the entrance, tall pillars, and staff lined neatly on both sides like decorations.
Mira glanced around quickly.
Too many people. Too many eyes.
Too many smiles that didn’t feel real.
She didn’t like it.
Salvatore didn’t wait for her.
He had already started walking.
Of course.
Mira exhaled sharply and followed.
Stay close, she reminded herself.
Not because she wanted to— But because getting lost here would be worse.
The moment they stepped inside, attention shifted as always to him.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
But it happened.
People noticed him.
They always did.
“Salvatore,” a man greeted, stepping forward with a wide smile.“Good to see you.”
Salvatore returned it instantly.
That same effortless charm.
“Likewise,” he said smoothly, shaking his hand.
Mira watched the switch happen again.
Like flipping a light on.
His posture relaxed.
His voice is warmer.
His expression… human…
It still didn’t sit right with her.
Another woman approached.
Tall. Elegant. Dressed as she belonged on a magazine cover.
Her eyes flicked to Mira for half a second before returning to him.
“Are you going to introduce me?” she asked playfully.
Salvatore didn’t miss a beat.
“Of course,” he said, placing a light hand on Mira’s back.
The contact was brief.
But it was enough to make her stiffen slightly.
“This is Mira Voss.” His voice deep, “Mine for the evening.”
Mira’s eyes flicked to him instantly.
Mine?
She forced a smile before it could show how shocked she was by his choice of words
“Nice to meet you,” she said politely.
Even though she didn’t mean it.
The woman smiled back.
Polished. Curious.
But there was something else there too.
Like she was already judging her.
“Likewise,” she said.
Then to Salvatore—
“You do surprise me… with your taste.”
He only smiled.
Mira didn’t ask what that meant.
Didn’t want to know.
More people gathered after that.
More greetings.
More conversations that didn’t really say anything meaningful
Mira stood beside him, quiet.
Observing.
Listening.
Learning.
That was the job.
Even if she hated every second of it.
At some point, a glass of champagne appeared in her hand.
She didn’t remember taking it.
She didn’t drink it either.
Just held it.
Something to do with her hands.
Something to make her look like she belonged.
Salvatore leaned slightly toward her at one point.
Close enough for only her to hear.
“Smile,” he murmured.
Mira didn’t look at him.
“I am smiling,” she muttered back.
“Do better,” he whispered in her ears.
Her grip tightened slightly around the glass.
But her smile widened. Just enough to satisfy him.
From the outside… They probably looked perfect.
That was the disturbing part… she didn't want to be a part of his disgusting masking games.