Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57707 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57707 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
Then I write “home,” and I can’t stop smiling. An image of a house on a luscious green hill appears, kissed by sunlight. I can’t imagine living in a house like that. Who would I live with?
I jump when Riley touches my arm.
“Sorry, I got lost,” I say.
“Isn’t that what parties are for? Let’s find Matteo.”
We leave the room, walking into what I realize is the main section. This place is huge. As we walk into the central chamber, waiters in masquerade masks glide through the crowd, offering gourmet hors d’oeuvres on silver platters. The lavishly decorated bar glows with the light of crystal decanters, serving drinks that emit smoke and sparks.
All around me, mysterious figures in elaborate masks and costumes gather in hushed conversations while others laugh and engage in lively banter with their identities concealed.
Illuminated pathways lined with glowing, color-changing lights guide me through the space. We find Matteo and Carlo at the bar. Carlo is tall and thin and watches me in a close way I don’t like. He’s not mean or rude, just maybe overly attentive.
“Isn’t this amazing?” Carlo yells over the music, approaching me with a drink.
I’m happy when Riley leans forward for me. “She doesn’t drink.”
Carlo tilts his head. “No?”
“No,” I say firmly, not liking how he looks at me as if he thinks there’s something wrong with that.
He shrugs, then tosses my cocktail back. “Okay then.”
Matteo says something to Riley, and then she leans over to me. “Let’s go. Apparently, there’s a special event.”
“I’m not sure how this could get even more special,” I say.
Part of me feels conflicted for throwing myself so eagerly into this experience. This is for the mega-rich, not people like me. Yet I can’t stop myself from latching onto the excitement and the sheer grand scale of it all.
We walk toward the edge of the party, behind a big speaker that almost blows my head off, and then around to a small, unmarked door. A man in a suit opens it for us and quickly closes it behind us. The music recedes, pumping behind us. I feel the atmosphere in the air change, and Matteo and Carlo suddenly seem more official, more tense.
We turn a corner, and everything comes into view.
The chain-link fence, which is slightly uneven, cordons off the makeshift simple cage. Harsh overhead lights cast stark shadows on the blood-stained matted floor. The crowd, a mix of elite party-goers and rougher-looking types, presses close to the fence, their faces illuminated by the light.
At the edge of the cage, a woman in a bikini with a clipboard and a wad of cash takes bets, scribbling names and amounts on a piece of paper. A few well-dressed men in suits stand nearby, their eyes cold and calculating as they pace or drink, clearly more interested in the money changing hands than the sport itself. The air is thick with the smell of sweat, alcohol, and a hint of something more illicit, adding to the sense that this is far from legitimate. It’s not like I wasn’t warned.
Riley looks at me, her expression becoming slightly unsure. Then Matteo takes her hand and leads her to a table in the top corner, overlooking the cage.
“Ah, Matteo!” a sweaty man yells, with a combover and a big grin.
“Raffie, good to see you,” Matteo says, and the two men clap hands. “Allow me to introduce Riley and Maya, our dates for the evening.”
“Lucky man,” Raffie says. “The main event will begin soon.”
“How’s it been so far?” Matteo asks.
“Good. Bloody.” Raffie gestures to the table. “Come. Drink. Eat. Enjoy.”
As we shuffle around the table, I don’t have time to slow down to choose where I sit, meaning I end up wedged between Riley, which is fine, but with Carlo on my other side. The smell of his cologne is almost overwhelming. He brushes his arm against mine, and it feels like a bee stinging me.
When he tries to shift even closer to me, I turn to him, giving him a look. He grins as if to say, Ah, you won’t be so stubborn at the end of the night. My skin crawls, but leaving this place feels suddenly impossible. I try to gameplan it out. If I was going to get up, I’ve got to shimmy by Carlo. I can tell he’s the sort of creep to make it weird. Riley’s talking with Matteo, but I can’t even hear it; I can’t hear anything over the music and my heartbeat in my ears.
Swallowing, I stare down at the blood on the canvas. It makes me cringe slightly, but not much. I’ve seen much worse while caring for Mom when Lacey or one of her other nurses was busy. “A girl has to harden herself,” Mom said after Dad, but I can’t think, care, or pretend. “A girl has to keep her cool.” Mom was so cool before she got sick. What a horrible, evil thought. It’s the kind of thing I can think about but never say. With her lopsided grin and her cocky wink, she was always cracking jokes, always making fun of herself in the cutest ways.