Chapter 7

Lana

Slipping into this dress, black as sin and looser from the waist down, feels like I”m donning armor. Julia”s the one who pushed it, saying it”d help keep the baby bump under wraps. Not that there”s much to hide yet, but she”s got this mother hen thing down to an art form. Normally, I”d balk at wearing black — too somber, too predictable for my taste — but tonight, with a swipe of red lipstick? I”m feeling it. It”s like I”m channeling some old Hollywood noir vibe, ready to face whatever this godforsaken party throws at me.

And let”s be clear: this party”s a minefield, not a soirée. More enemies than friends, if the term ”friends” even applies in our world. Roman”s here, playing the part of my ”date” or escort, whichever title gives him less of a headache. And Grigori? He”s lurking around the edges, eyes sharp for any sign of trouble. Trust me, in our line of business, trouble”s not just expected; it”s a guarantee.

As we step into the dimly lit hall, the air thick with anticipation and the subtle undercurrent of danger, I can”t help but scan the crowd. Politicians rubbing elbows with mobsters, businessmen making deals with the devil in tailored suits — it”s a veritable who”s who of the city”s underbelly. And here I am, the queen of this damned chessboard, with my knights flanking me.

Roman leans in, his voice a low murmur in my ear. ”Remember, we”re just here to show face. In and out.”

I suppress the urge to roll my eyes. ”I know the drill, Roman. Doesn”t mean I can”t enjoy the party.”

Roman, ever the charmer, peels off to engage some of Perez”s underlings. It”s a strategic move, drawing attention away from me as I zero in on a more intriguing target: Bella, Perez”s mistress.

Bella”s exactly what you”d expect from someone in her role. Late 20s, brunette, dressed in what she probably thinks is high fashion but screams escort. Not that I”m judging; we all play the cards we”re dealt. But Perez? I”d have thought he”d aim higher. Then again, men like him aren”t exactly looking for a partner; they”re looking for an accessory.

Bella”s eyes light up with a mix of surprise and something akin to mischief as she spots me navigating the crowd. ”Lana! I wasn”t expecting to see you here tonight.”

Her tone suggests it”s a social faux pas on my part for turning up unannounced, as if my presence at this snake pit of a party is the evening”s biggest surprise. I can”t help but admire her audacity; it takes a certain kind of boldness to play innocent in our world.

”And miss the chance to mingle with the city”s finest?” I retort, offering her a smile that doesn”t quite reach my eyes. ”I wouldn”t dream of it.”

Her laugh, a high-pitched, calculated sound, fills the space between us. ”Oh, darling, you always were one for sarcasm. But seriously, you look... radiant. Is that a new dress?”

She eyes me up and down, her gaze lingering just a bit too long for casual observation. It”s clear she”s trying to unearth secrets, peeling back layers she has no business touching. But then, that”s Bella. Always probing, always prying.

”Just something I threw on,” I lie smoothly, the black dress anything but a last-minute choice. ”You know how it is. Can never be too underdressed for these things.”

Bella nods, her expression one of mock understanding. ”Of course, of course. And here I thought Perez was the only one with a keen eye for fashion. Tell me, Lana,” she leans in, lowering her voice as if sharing a confidence, ”any interesting tidbits you”ve picked up tonight? You know I live for your insights.”

”Interesting tidbits?” I echo, feigning contemplation. ”Well, I did hear that the canapés being served are a rare delicacy, imported straight from Italy. Fascinating, isn”t it?”

Her smile falters, disappointment flickering in her eyes. Clearly, she was hoping for something juicier, something with a bit more... scandal. But I”m not about to give her the satisfaction, not when every word exchanged is a potential weapon in the wrong hands.

”Oh, Lana, always playing your cards close to your chest,” she says, recovering quickly. ”But don”t worry, your secrets are safe with me.”

I force a smile. The small talk between us is a dance of its own, each word measured, each smile calculated. Bella”s a snake, but then, aren”t we all in this pit?

Just as the conversation hits a lull, a waiter glides by with a tray of champagne. Bella, seizing the opportunity, snags two glasses, offering one to me with a smirk that suggests she knows exactly what she”s doing.

”Thank you,” I say, accepting the glass. Obviously, I can”t drink, what with the little one growing inside me, but declining would raise more questions than I care to answer tonight. So, I hold the glass, a prop in this performance, and continue our verbal sparring.

”You know, Bella,” I start, leaning in as if to share a secret. ”I”ve heard quite a bit about you. All good things, of course.”

Her eyes narrow slightly, trying to gauge whether I”m being genuine or if this is the lead-up to a jab. ”Really? I”m flattered. Perez doesn”t usually allow me to mingle with... your kind of people.”

”Oh, I”m sure he doesn”t,” I reply, my tone light, teasing. ”But then, Perez doesn”t always know what”s best for him, does he?”

It”s a subtle dig, a reminder that she”s more than just Perez”s arm candy, that she might have ambitions of her own. Bella”s smart; she catches the implication immediately, her expression shifting to one of cautious interest.

”And what about you, Lana?” she counters, her voice low, a hint of steel beneath the silk. ”When are you going to marry one of your boytoys?”

I lean in, matching her low tone with my own, letting a slow, deliberate smile spread across my lips. ”Oh, about the same time Perez decides to divorce his wife and make an honest woman out of you, I suppose.”

Her laughter rings out, clear and unbothered. ”Please, I”m much happier as the mistress. I get all the perks and none of the bullshit.” There”s a flicker of triumph in her eyes, as if she”s scored a point in our verbal tennis match.

I can”t help but give her credit; the woman”s got guts. But as far as I”m concerned, she”s still a minor character in this twisted play we”re all part of. My attention drifts, only half-listening as she prattles on, until she lands a comment that pulls me sharply back to the present.

”You know, it”s funny,” Bella muses, a snake-like cleverness creeping into her tone. ”You, who famously drank several of the other mob bosses under the table two years ago, aren”t touching a drop of alcohol tonight. Haven”t all night, in fact.”

I raise my untouched glass slightly, the corners of my mouth tilting up in a mock toast. ”Maybe I”ve just developed a taste for the finer things in life. Who knows? Sobriety might just be the latest trend in the underworld.”

Bella watches me for a moment longer, her gaze sharp and calculating, before letting out a soft, conceding laugh. ”Perhaps you”re right. Sobriety, the latest mob craze. Who would have thought?”

As Bella saunters off, her earlier words echoing in my mind, I can”t help but feel the noose of suspicion tightening around my neck. She winks back at me, that obnoxious, knowing gesture that sends a shiver down my spine before draping herself over Perez like some kind of mink stole. The sight of them together, whispering, with occasional glances thrown my way, sends alarm bells ringing in my head. What did she say to him? How much does she suspect? And more importantly, what”s she willing to do with that suspicion?

Roman materializes at my side, his timing impeccable as always. ”Everything okay?”

I force a smile, pushing down the rising panic. ”Oh, absolutely. Just marveling at the intricate web of our lovely underworld. Reminding myself not to underestimate the women in this mafia, especially the most fringe members.” My voice drips with a mix of sarcasm and genuine reflection. Bella, for all her mistress status, just proved she”s more than capable of stirring the pot.

Roman catches the undercurrent of tension in my voice. ”Bella?” he guesses.

I nod, not wanting to delve into the specifics, not here, not now. ”Let”s just say she”s more observant than I gave her credit for.”

He leans in closer, lowering his voice. ”We can handle it. Whatever it is.”

I let out a breath I didn”t realize I was holding. ”I know. It”s just... frustrating, having to play these games.”

Roman smirks, a hint of his usual confidence breaking through. ”You love the game, Lana. Just maybe not all the players.”

He”s not wrong. The game, the constant dance of power and manipulation, is where I thrive. It”s just that sometimes, like now, the cost of playing becomes all too apparent.

As we weave through the crowd, Roman leans in, his voice barely above the music pulsing through the grand room. ”You know, you really shouldn”t underestimate the women in this life. They can be just as deadly as the men, if not more.”

I shoot him a sideways glance, a smirk playing at the corner of my mouth. ”Oh, is that your way of telling me I”m deadly? Because if you hadn”t noticed, I”ve been running circles around these guys since I could walk.”

He chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that vibrates through the air between us. ”No doubt about that. But Bella... she”s playing a dangerous game. And she”s not the only one. There are others, just as cunning and twice as desperate.”

My smirk fades, replaced by a thoughtful frown. ”Point taken. But desperation can make people sloppy. And sloppiness in our world gets you caught... or worse.”

Roman nods, his gaze scanning the room, always on alert. ”True. But it also makes them unpredictable. And unpredictability is a variable we can”t afford to ignore.”

I consider his words, the truth in them ringing louder than the bass from the speakers. ”So, what”s your advice, then? Keep my friends close and my enemies closer?”

”Something like that,” he agrees, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. ”Just remember, Lana, in this game, everyone”s playing for keeps. And not everyone plays fair.”

”Thanks for the pep talk, Coach,” I say, injecting a dose of sarcasm into my voice to lighten the mood. ”I”ll be sure to keep my guard up. Especially around the ladies.”

Roman”s smile is quick, a fleeting glimpse of the camaraderie that underpins our relationship. ”Just doing my job. And hey, if you ever need a bodyguard, you know where to find me.”

I laugh, the sound mingling with the cacophony around us. ”I think I”ve got the bodyguard situation covered. But I”ll keep you in mind for... other positions.”

The flirtatious undertone of my reply doesn”t go unnoticed, a brief spark of something more flashing in Roman”s eyes before he masks it with another smile.

”Anytime, Lana. Anytime.”

I flash a smile before asking, ”What did you… and Perez talk about?”

Roman”s eyes follow my gaze back to Perez, who”s still wearing that smug look, probably courtesy of whatever Bella whispered in his ear. ”Oh, you know, the usual posturing. He”s trying to expand his territory again. Thinks he”s got an edge now.”

I snort, unable to help the sarcastic twist to my voice. ”An edge? What did he do, find a new rat hole to conduct his business in?”

”Something like that,” Roman replies, his lips twitching in amusement. ” But, you know, it”s Perez. His ”new connections” probably come with more baggage than his wife at a holiday sale.”

I can”t help but let out a genuine laugh at that image. ”His wife, huh? Last I heard, she was about two steps away from throwing his clothes out the window. Has he managed to sweet-talk his way out of that one yet?”

”Wouldn”t put it past him. The man”s a snake, but he knows how to slither his way into — and out of — tight spots,” Roman quips, ”But between you and me, I think his home life”s a bit of a mess. Might explain why he”s pushing so hard for expansion. Trying to compensate.”

”Compensate, huh? Well, we all know what that usually means,” I muse, the edges of my mouth curling up in amusement. ”Guess we”ll have to make sure his... expansion plans don”t get too out of hand.”

Roman nods, his gaze sharpening. ”Exactly. We can”t let him think he”s got any sort of advantage. Might be time to remind Perez just who he”s dealing with.”

I take a moment to glance over at Perez again, who seems blissfully unaware of our scrutiny. ”Oh, he”ll remember soon enough. Especially if he keeps trying to play in our sandbox. Maybe it”s time we showed him that not all sandcastles are meant to stand.”

”Couldn”t agree more.”

As Roman and I blend back into the fabric of the party, our conversation veils a deeper strategy, a silent agreement that Perez”s ambitions will need to be curtailed, one way or another. In this world, power is a delicate balance, and we”ve danced on this tightrope long enough to know how to keep our footing.

But as the night wears on, the undercurrents of rivalry and ambition swirling around us, I can”t shake the feeling that we”re on the cusp of something big. Perez, with his swagger and his scheming, might just be the spark that lights the fuse.

And when it blows, I”ll make sure we”re the ones left standing.