An italian count
1410 Words
1 week later, Rome
*Holly*
"Ready," Sebastian says, holding out his arm to me. "You look stunning, by the way."
I twirl once in my blue evening dress before taking his arm. "Thanks... I gotta say, you clean up pretty nicely too. You almost look civilized."
"Ehhehehe," he chuckles, in a very Sebastian way.
To be honest, he does look very sharp and handsome in his dark blue tuxedo. We are going together as undercover security for Mr. and Miss Romanov. Sebastian is posing as an English plastic surgeon and I as his adoring wife.
We make our way down the hotel hallway, and he nods to the two guards outside the room before knocking on the door. A third guard opens the door and nods, stepping aside.
"Oliver... Juniper," Vasily Romanov says, stepping out. He is wearing a flashy pinstriped designer suit, looking a lot more like a gangster than a politician. Karolina is wearing a pretty white dress.
"Evening, sir, Miss Karolina," Sebastian says with a small bow. "We will stay close to you at all times. Just relax and enjoy the party; we have you covered."
Mr. Romanov nods, “Good, make sure to keep your eyes open.”
Sebastian signals to the guards, who makes a sweep of the hallway, reporting back that the coast is clear.
One of the guards walks down the hallway, Sebastian lets Vasily and his daughter follow first. Then we follow. One guard follows us, and the last stays back in the room, handling surveillance and being on standby if needed.
Luckily, the ball is held in the hotel where we are staying, so we just have to go downstairs, which makes security easier. It is a super fancy thing, and we are presented as Doctor and Signora Steele.
I decided to accept joining Sebastian here in Rome, as there have been whispers of a possible attack on Mr. Romanov, and we fear they might attempt to kidnap Karolina.
"A dance?" Sebastian asks, holding out his hand. "My beautiful wife."
I smile and take his hand, knowing it is a way to stay close to our targets without looking suspicious.
He pulls me into his arms, twirling me out on the floor in a waltz, and I whisper through my teeth, "Do not try to kiss me or anything else funny; your darling wife does not like public displays of affection."
"Poor man... getting no love," he whispers back.
"Try and you will get a new understanding of a poor man," I tell him.
He just grins, then changes the subject. "You should have brought your sister, maybe she would have made for a more loving wife."
"Oh no, I shouldn't.” I might step on his foot. “Stay away from my sister, Sebastian."
"Not that I am... but why?" He makes a face, telling me his foot hurts, good he deserves it.
I shake my head. "She is 22, Sebastian, and very shy and innocent... and you have a job that could have you killed any day or drag her into trouble... so... no... my sister is not going to date anyone from the agency... it's not personal, it is not just you..."
"I would think she was old enough to decide for herself," he mumbles, but I choose to ignore him. My sister is too sweet, innocent, and shy to date some agent or spy, especially him.
Five minutes later, Sebastian bows to me. "Thank you for the dance; you are a wonderful dancer, darling."
"Not sure your foot agrees, but thanks, darling," I grin at him.
I let Sebastian lead me to the edge of the dance floor, and we spend the next half hour being introduced to guests and keeping an eye on the Romanovs and the room in general.
The guy introducing people slams his staff into the marble floor, signaling that someone has arrived fashionably late. "Count Goffredo dell’Aquila and Signora Pignatelli."
I watch as a tall, handsome man steps out on the stairs. He is wearing a somewhat flashy tuxedo with an ornate purple shirt and tie, but he somehow pulls it off. He is twirling one of those fancy walking sticks in his free hand, and on his arm is a very rich-looking woman who also looks about old enough to be his mother.
"Did Signora Pignatelli get married again?" someone near us says. Luckily, they are speaking English, as Italian is not my strong side.
The other guy shrugs. "Would it surprise anyone... it would be her... what, fifth husband?"
"Sixth, I think," the first one says.
“I have heard this count dell’Aquila is super rich,” a third man says. “I don’t think she has gotten him to the altar... yet.”
The second one laughs. “Let's hope she manages; it would keep the rest of us safe from her, at least for a moment.”
I wonder what a man like that, tall, handsome, and clearly well-built, is doing with an old maneater like her if he has enough money of his own. Maybe he has some kind of granny kink.
“What are you thinking?” Sebastian says, looking at me.
“Nothing,” I grin to myself. It’s not for his ears.
*Karolina*
"Put this in your bag and hold it for me," my father says, handing me his private phone. He is going to have a business meeting with no phones allowed, and I have been told to dance with the contact’s chubby son while they are gone.
I know it is to make sure the son is not part of some trap for my dad. And to keep me in an open view too.
Oliver will go with my father, but the woman, Juniper, will stay here and keep an eye on me.
I put the phone in my clutch and look at Oliver. “Watch out for him, okay?”
“I will,” he says with a warm smile.
The chubby guy, Mattia, I think it was, bows to me and holds out his hand. I do not like the way he looks at me, but my father told me to dance with him, so I do it.
He leads me out onto the floor, and we start dancing. I am kind of happy he seems so focused on counting that he is not trying to start a conversation.
Mattia tries to twirl me and accidentally lets go of my hand. I stumble, thinking I will fall, but someone grabs my hand, giving it a tug at the right time, twirling me back. I think it is Mattia, but when I find myself pressed into a big, strong body, I know it’s not.
I see purple in front of me, trying to remember where I saw that shirt. “Count dell’Aquila.”
”Sì, signorina,” the warm voice says.
I lift my eyes to his face, looking into warm hazel eyes. I would have jumped back if he was not holding me so tightly. “You!”
“Well, hello, fancy meeting you here my pretty,” he says in Russian. It’s him, the guy from the theater, the one who stole my necklace, the one who kissed me.
“Let me go,” I hiss, looking desperately around. Mattia is dancing with some bimbo. I have no idea where she came from, and I can’t see Juniper anywhere.
He shakes his head slightly. “Sorry, darling, no can do. You have something I need.”
“Oh no, let me go or I will scream.” I try to get loose, but I also do not want everyone's attention unless really needed.
“My apologies.” I feel something hard and cold press against my ribs. “I need you to stay calm and walk with me out that side door, and put a happy smile on your face.”
I stiffen. Where is Juniper? He gently guides me towards the side door, his arm around me like a close friend or lover. The weapon presses against my side where no one can see it.
“Are you going to hurt me?” I whisper.
“Just keep from screaming and do as I say, and you will be okay,” he mumbles, pushing open the door and leading me out into a hallway.
My heart is in my throat. What is he going to do to me?
- Writer
