Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
It’s when his gaze pauses in our direction that I think we made a mistake. I think Blue might be wrong.
Because I think he might recognize her.
“Look at me,” I say to Blue who turns to me, so she is facing away from him. My eyes are on Hoxton. His move to me. Does he sense danger? Does he know yet that he will die tonight? My heart thuds slow and heavy against my chest until Hoxton’s gaze moves past me, expression unchanging. If he registered my animosity, he did not show it. When Montrose calls his attention, he leans down, and I see the tattoo Blue mentioned. The coda at his neck.
The Councilors make their way to their table at the front of the banquet room. It’s set on a dais for the three men. Men who, with a word, can destroy a life. Can snuff it out entirely.
“Can we go?” Blue asks.
I turn my gaze down to hers. Her eyes are huge, face pale. The pulse at her neck is throbbing.
“Not yet. It would draw attention.”
“But—”
“Relax. He didn’t recognize you,” I say, but it’s a lie. I know it because even as the Councilors settle into their chairs, Hoxton’s gaze returns to us. Settles there.
Blue picks up her glass and downs the last of her champagne. Councilor Montrose, the oldest of the Councilors, clinks his fork against his glass and the instant he does, the room goes quiet.
Hoxton remains behind Montrose. In my periphery I see Jericho shift his gaze from Hoxton to me. I meet my brother’s eyes.
What does this mean, if a guard of The Tribunal was at Blue’s house to retrieve the laptop? Did Lucky steal information from the Councilors? Was he paid to do it? The entries, were they kept by all three? I don’t think so. These were personal entries. Did the Councilors then learn what had happened, that personal files were stolen, and, learning it was Lucky, send Hoxton to retrieve the information?
Like Hoxton, I let my gaze move over the faces in the room. Powerful men, these. I see Santiago De La Rosa with his wife, Ivy. Beside him is his sister, Mercedes, a woman capable of murder. She is now married to Judge Montgomery, who took her punishment onto his own shoulders, literally. What scars does he hide beneath that bespoke suit he wears?
Was it one of the men in this room who hired Lucky to steal the information or was it someone outside of IVI. My gut says inside. It’s what makes the most sense. And there are so many possible motives.
Greed. Money. Blackmail. Vengeance.
I shift my gaze to Blue. She’s clutching her bag in her hands, her eyes wide, but distant. She has the flash drive. I know that. She lied about not knowing about it. Did she retrieve it when she retrieved the money I found in her pocket? Was it there, all along, inside the pocket of her dress and I didn’t think to look?
And what does she plan to do with it? She has accepted my protection for herself, for her sister. Why not give up the flash drive? Unless it’s her backup plan. Does she know who wants it? If she thinks handing it over to whoever hired Lucky to steal it or to the Councilors will buy her freedom, she’s wrong. Dead wrong.
Making someone like Blue disappear is an easy task for anyone in this room.
Montrose finishes his speech. I only realize it because the room breaks out into applause. On Hildebrand’s signal, the orchestra begins to play and several doors swing open to allow dozens of waiters to enter carrying trays of food, and dinner begins.
28
Blue
I’m not sure how I make it through a starter and the main course. My plate goes back mostly untouched. Zeke sits beside me cutting into his meat, eating. I’m not sure he tastes anything though. His energy is tense. Muscles tightly bunched. When he looks up from his plate, it is in one direction.
The head table.
The man standing guard behind the Councilors.
Before dessert is served, there is a break, and couples begin to make their way to the floor to dance a waltz. I watch, wondering if they all go to the same dance school or something because everyone seems to seamlessly fall into place, as if the whole thing were coordinated.
The Councilors leave the room, their guard with them. Hoxton doesn’t look back and I feel myself relax. I look to Zeke who is finishing the last of his wine.
“Can we go?”
“Soon,” he says. How does he manage to look so relaxed, I wonder. No, that’s not it. It’s not relaxed. It’s something else. Like he’s decided something.
“I need to run to the lady’s room,” Isabelle says, wiping her mouth with her napkin.
“I’ll come with you,” I say, pushing my chair back.