Chapter 1 - The Night They Grabbed My Arms Under The Chandeliers
The chandeliers were too bright to look at directly, so I looked at him instead. The marble under my heels was polished to a mirror shine and it threw the light back up at all of us, and the air smelled like lilies and warm candle wax and men's cologne. He stood close enough that I could see the tight line of his bow tie and the way his jaw worked when he was trying not to smile. That was the contradiction I couldn't get past. Everyone else was pretending this was a party, and he was already treating it like a removal.
Two guards had stopped a half step behind me. I felt their shadows more than I saw them. My arms were still at my sides. My dress strap sat thin and cold on my left shoulder. I didn't fix it because I didn't want to give him that flicker.
My name is Rebecca, and I wasn't on that list on purpose.
The ballroom clock over the arch read 8:47. I'd checked it when I walked in past the check table, when the young woman with the tablet had run her finger down and then up again and said, "I'm sorry, I don't see it," loud enough for the couple behind me to hear. He'd been watching from near the stage then. He waited until I was fully inside, fully seen, under the center chandelier with a glass of water someone had handed me still sweating in my hand, before he walked over with that slow, unhurried stride.
He didn't look at the guards when he spoke. He looked straight at me.
"Please escort her out. She isn't on tonight's guest list."
One guard's hand closed around my right arm just above the elbow. The other took my left. Not rough enough to bruise, but firm enough that the guests nearest us stopped mid-sentence. A woman in silver gasped a little and then covered it with a cough. I felt the water shift in my glass. I set it down on the tray of a passing server without looking away from him because I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of watching my hands shake.
"That's fine. You're only doing your job," I said.
I said it to the guard on my right. He was younger, his neck red under his collar, and he wouldn't meet my eyes. The older one on my left stared straight ahead like he'd been told not to react. My voice sounded calmer than my chest felt. My heart was hammering so hard I was sure the thin fabric of my dress was moving with it.
He took a step closer. The guests made a loose circle without meaning to, champagne glasses catching the light. He lowered his voice just enough to make it intimate, like we shared something ugly.
"Rebecca, you really should have chosen another night."
I breathed in once through my nose. The chandelier above us chimed faintly as the air system kicked on and a hundred crystals moved. I could feel both guards' grips adjust, waiting for me to walk. I didn't walk. I planted my heels on that cold marble and let them hold me there in the center of the room, because if I moved now everyone would remember me only walking out.
I was about to ask him when my name had disappeared when the room changed.
Footsteps cut across the marble from the archway, unhurried and heavy. Not security. Someone who didn't need to hurry. The younger guard's fingers loosened a fraction. The man in front of me glanced past my shoulder and his expression stalled. That arrogant stillness cracked just enough that I saw his eyes flick left, then right, looking for someone to confirm what he was hearing.
"Step back."
The voice came from behind me, older, low, used to being obeyed without repetition. The guards let go at once. Blood rushed back into my arms and left them tingling. I didn't rub them. I kept my chin level and turned only my head enough to catch a shape in my periphery, a dark coat against the warm light, guests parting without being asked.
The man in the tuxedo opened his mouth and nothing came out. His bow tie rose and fell with a quick swallow.
May you like
The voice spoke again, this time to the whole room, clear under the chandeliers where everyone could hear it.
"She is my successor. Now you understand why I came back."
