He’s dressed in a white suit, with a black accent tie, black lapels, and silver cufflinks. His hair is coiffed, his facial hair is trimmed, and the familiar smell of his spice-and-mint cologne puts me at ease – ease in the fact that he’s going to be by my side tonight.
“Absolutely radiant,” he tells me, then scans my face. “You sure you wanna go, though?”
“Julian worked so hard on this dress. It’d be a shame not to show it off.”
Mave shakes his head. “You know that’s not enough, Nettie.”
“I know,” I say. “But I reallydowanna go, Mave. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Uncle Chase, so I’d like to change that. Also…” I quirk a brow. “There’s gonna be free champagne. I don’t even remember the last time I got drunk off my ass, and because I’ve gotyouto look after me tonight, I plan on downing as much booze as I can.” What I don’t say out loud, or show, is my unwillingness in wanting to come face-to-face with my mother. I haven’t seen her or heard from her since the morning she attacked me, and as much as I wish I could keep things that way, I know it’ll be impossible to avoid her tonight.
Mave seems unconvinced of my claims, but chuckles anyway. “Sure, but just know that if you throw up on yourself, I’m not going to clean you up. Been there, done that. You’re not a cooperative drunk, and you sing – awfully too, might I add – while you’re inebriated, so there’s always a chance that I might lose my eardrums. Little good that’ll do for my professional career.”
My lips twitch as I look up at him. “You’re so full of shit.”
“I’ll record you the next time you do it.Tonight, perhaps.”
“As if I’ll give you the satisfaction, you asshole,” I tell him, making him chuckle again.
“Ready to head out, then?” he asks.
I nod. “Yeah.” I quickly touch up my gloss, grab my white clutch from the dressing table, put on my silver spool-heel tie ups, and glance at my reflection in the mirror one more time.
I am an anomaly. A deviation from sanity.
A beautiful disaster.
And I’ve got this. IknowI’ve fucking got this.
25.
Idrop the towel from around my waist and grab my deodorant. Swiping it on my underarms a couple of times, I place it back on the dresser, then walk over to my closet before putting my clothes on.
I’m ecstatic about tonight, but I can’t help but be anxious as well, because Cignette will be at the gala, and so will Miranda. If the latter pulls any kind of a stunt, I’ll be too distracted to focus on the kills, and if the kills take all my attention, then I won’t be able to keep an eye on Cignette.
My crew has agreed to watch her tonight, and despite knowing that it’s unfair of me to ask them to do that, I’m not going to stop them. Four pairs of eyes are better than one, after all.
When I’d texted Cignette earlier today, she’d sent me a photo of her dress, and had told me that even though she was confident she could attend the gala and keep her wits about her, she was not ready to act social and jovial with Miranda. At one point, she’d even said she wished I could be there with her, and if I wasn’t so duty-bound, I would have told her that I will, indeed, be there with her.
The thing is: I’m not sure how, and for howlong, I’ll be able to go undetected by her. Because something tells me that she’ll find me out, and she’ll do it before I’ve had the chance to finish the job I’ve been assigned to do.
I shut my closet door and make my way over to the mirror. Tucking in my sky-blue shirt, I zip my pants and put my belt on. I’m not one for ties, so I keep the first few buttons of my shirt undone.
I hear the ping of a new text as I’m pulling my navy-blue suit jacket over my shoulders. It’s Jayce.
My phone’s on the dresser, so I unlock it and tap on the message.
Jay:We’re here. You ready?
I ruffle my still-damp hair, fix my collar, button-up my sleeve cuffs, and spray some cologne on my neck. I then grab my phone and switchblade, shoot a quick response to Jayce, then pocket both the items before heading out of my loft.
Me:omw.
I am a poison. A contradiction to stability.
A formidable calamity.
And I’ll gladly destroy those who try to get in my way.
26.
