Chapter 3

• Carter
• Saturday morning arrived quicker than I hoped, the guy Wes nabbed hasn’t spilled anything other than blood, no matter how much Wes puts him through so I think we got a good informant. He probably has a lot of information and was trained well to accept death before leaking any information about his boss and whereabouts or anything that might help us take him down and put an end to the feud. I haven’t had to personally get involved with interrogations in almost a year and I’m unsure what use it will be for me to get involved now because my temper may just get the better of me and I’ll just kill him out of frustration and I really don’t want him dead yet. I want the information he has hiding in his piece of shit head before he meets his maker, but how do I get him to talk, we don’t know anything about him other than the fact that he works for the Langley’s and has no family that we know of which is a great weakness to use against people who refuse to talk.
• I spent the rest of the morning into the late afternoon confirming specifics for the event tonight and I’m just cleaning up my facial hair and to trim it up. When my assistant suggested a masquerade theme this year I was hesitant but she did her own survey and poll with all the investors and other higher up community people who attend every year and the majority were thrilled about the idea. Masks are an odd thing to me but for some damn reason when I got mine picked out from the tailer according to my mother it makes me look more alluring and captivating which was awkward coming from her but it made my dad laugh hysterically.
• I get cleaned up after my shower and get dressed, my suit as a whole is black with a very dark red velvet vest, my mom insisted that I go the whole nine yards for this monkey suit of an ensemble so black gloves and black mask is what I will be leaving in. Xander had given me shit for this look until I told him that he needed to get a complete look as well because he needed to be there tonight as well, no way in hell I’m going to be made out to be the laughing stock in this outfit among my inner circle of people. I walk to the garage and think that I will take the metallic black McLaren tonight, it completes the look that I have going for myself right now and it seems everyone knows who is pulling up when I drive it.
• Since my estate is outside city limits it takes me almost thirty minutes to get to the venue for the charity event and as if my presence was sensed from the revving of my car I see all the reporters eyes turn towards me and the flashing lights start going off like fireworks on the fourth of July. I slowly pull up to the valet section and pause for dramatic effect while checking to make sure that my suit and mask are still on correctly and straight and I take a small breath to face the outside madness, as soon as I step out of the car I hear my name being said multiple times.
• “Mr. Slade! A moment of your time.”
• “Mr. Slade, Mr. Slade. What are your plans for expansion?”
• “Mr. Slade! What happened to Christina?”
• Questions I hear every year, questions I ignore every year. My business is my business, if they want to hear about it they can read about it on the news. Reporters don’t like me, they say I’m callous and harsh and not a pleasant person to talk to, which is true for the most part, but honestly I hate reporters probably just as much as they hate me. I hand my keys to the valet and start walking up the steps and the host standing at the podium gives me a small nod as I walk past him.
• “Have a good night Mr. Slade.”
• I give him a small nod and walk inside and I am pleasantly surprised by the amount of work my assistant and her team were able to complete in order to get this all done. The theme really is quite spectacular and everyone that is already here seems to be having a great time, the artwork on the upper floor is proudly out for display and bidding, and the main floor has a large enough space for the band and dancing and of course my favorite place to be…the bar, so that’s where I head first, people usually flock to me so I know I don’t have to go out searching for anyone.
• When I get up to the bar the bartender gives me a small smile, “What will you be drinking tonight Mr. Slade?”
• Apparently wearing a mask doesn’t hide who I am underneath, although it doesn’t help that I wear black every year and a theme change this year didn’t change that fact at all, “Manhattan, and keep them coming.”
• He nods he head at me and starts making my drink and I turn around to look at everyone here and to make sure that if anyone comes up to me my back isn’t turned to them, out of my peripherals I see Xander come up on my right side.
• “This mask is itchy and it’s hard to move in this monkey suit.”
• I quietly chuckle at him, “That’s why you’re supposed to get the suit weeks in advance to gently break in the fibers so you don’t look like a machine while walking and moving.”
• I raise my eyebrow at him and hear the bartender put my drink on the counter behind me so I reach behind me and give him a hundred-dollar bill from my pocket, he thanks me and goes to help other people at the bar.
• “Yeah no way in hell I was just going to walk around my kitchen wearing this getup.”
• I roll my eyes at him and take a sip of my drink, “It’s not like you’re supposed to work out in it, just wear it a few times before bed and move it around so it’s not so stiff, don’t you remember anything from what your mother taught you?”
• His turn to roll his eyes at me as he downs his bourbon, “I actively tried to repress all that bullshit schooling from my mother, it was her way of saying she hated having four boys to raise and no girls.”
• I chuckle at him, “Well at least you had brothers, my sister was an annoying shithead growing up.”
• He laughs at me and I think it’s nice to just casually talk before the wolves of investors start prowling, “Yeah yeah I know, pretty sure you’re the only one who saw her as a shithead though, where is she by the way?”
• I turn to face him a little more directly, “First off, I told you that I didn’t want to hear you breathe a single word about you and my sister, second, she’s in the Maldives for a runway show and won’t be back for another two months.”
• He sighs slightly, “Think what you will but I truthfully adored Amber and still do, she was the one who shot me down.”
• I smirk at him, “Maybe because she actually got some sense when she left for college.”
• Xander glares at me as I take another sip of my drink, “Hey there are worse people out there other than me that could be with your sister.”
• I grimace slightly, “We’re done talking about this, because I don’t want to hear about what you did and didn’t do with my sister.”
• I push up and away from the bar to head upstairs because that is where all the important business people will be and their aristocrat attitudes that make my stomach turn with disgust but they are also the ones that help keep my empire running. Without them I wouldn’t be able to have the funds for resources that I desperately need for what my true passion is, the protection of this city and eradicating the damn Langley’s from existence.
• An hour has gone by and I’ve had to avoid just about every damn woman here, I swear each year they get more clingy and more annoying and fuck they sound more desperate. More business clients want to renew which isn’t a shock, they see the revenue that their business brings in and they know who really runs this city and everyone wants a piece of it, like a high-ticket stock market item where if someone doesn’t get it while it’s fresh they won’t get any piece of the pie.
• I’m walking down the stairs to get another drink and I see a gorgeous brunette in an all-black dress, apparently I’m not the only one who enjoys the color, I only see a side profile of her so I don’t think she has caught me staring at her so I take a small breath and avert my gaze elsewhere as I keep walking to the bar.
• When I get up to the bar I see her glance out of the corner of her eye but not face me directly, she just keeps her eyes on her drink as the bartender puts my drink in front of me and I turn around to face the room and lean against the back of the counter, “Were the tailers out of the color you were looking for? Or was that color a personal choice?”
• I raise my eyebrow but don’t look at her then I hear a small scoffing sound come from her, “An audacious remark coming from a man that is donning the same color attire.”
• I smirk at her comment thinking that she might be able to play my game with how simplistically and effortlessly she said her words, “Touché, however most women don’t prefer all black for events such as these.”
• I see her turn to face the room out of my peripherals but I still don’t look at her, “How presumptuous of you to assume that I am like most women.”
• I raise my eyebrow unsure if she is looking at me or not, or if she is playing the avoiding game like me and I take a sip of my drink before I speak again, “Are you saying that you are not?”
• I hear an airy sound come out of her nose, “The colors I wear represent how I envision my soul and who I am as a person.”
• How interesting, “So what you’re saying is the color of your soul is black? Why do you paint yourself in such a dark light?”
• She doesn’t say anything for a few seconds then I hear her take a small breath, “I am honest about who I am as a person. I am honest with myself, because how can someone efficiently and cohesively live in today’s society if they can’t be honest with themselves?”
• Her words strike something so deep inside me, the part of me that had the hardest time coming to terms with who I knew I had to become in this world because I knew the truth about what this world is like. I can’t keep my eyes forward anymore and I turn my head to face her and she does the same and the second that mine lock onto hers I feel lost in her dazzling blue eyes, like the sea pulling me in to drown me, but my thoughts stop when I hear a song being played.
• “Can you dance the Malagueña?”