“Just Evander, please. Leave the ‘Mr. Foley’ behind.”
“Of course.” He drops his arm, but my feet remain rooted to the marble floor, anxiety gripping me as I maintain my forced smile. “As I was saying, Evander, we’re just doing our jobs. I’m glad you’re pleased with the setup.” I hold up the napkins, waving them slightly to keep up the charade. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get these out there and wrap up a few things before your guests arrive.”
“By all means… don’t let me keep you.” His smile falters, morphing into a sly smirk as his dark gaze follows my every step toward the door.
“Oh, and Fallon, come find me at the end of the party if I haven’t found you yet for the rest of your payment. My office is at the end of the hall on the first floor,” he says, his voice deep and calculated, sending more chills down my spine.
Something about it freezes my blood, but he is mafia; that explains it. "I will. Thank you, Evander. I hope you enjoy the party." I offer a fake smile, praying it’s convincing enough.
“Oh, I will.” He licks his lips, casting one last predatory glance my way before I slip out of the room.
A Few Hours Later
With the party underway and everyone enjoying themselves, Eliza and I stand in our designated dresses at the back of the grand hall, observing and ensuring everything flows smoothly. Brady and his girlfriend are in the midst of an argument—an everyday occurrence since she’s pregnant—so we’ve learned to tune it out. Staff members scurry about, refilling champagne flutes and topping off spiked eggnog, while the sounds of Christmas music waft joyously through the surround sound speakers as the band performs another set on the stunning hand-crafted stage. Everything looks perfect, and I can’t help but smile, mentally patting myself on the back for another job well done.
“Let’s go get a drink, Fallon. I think we deserve one after this,” Eliza suggests, tugging my arm toward one of the bars stationed at the side of the room.
“Yeah, you’re right. This has turned out even better than I expected.”
I order a holiday-themed candy cane martini and take a seat at the bar, just as my brother rushes through the doors, looking frantic. Ugh, what now? I gulp down my drink, finishing it off in just a couple of sips, and slide the empty glass back to the bartender for a refill, craving a slight buzz to brace myself for another round of his complaints.
“What’s wrong now, Brady?” I inquire, irritation creeping into my voice.
"Where's Nina, Fallon?" he asks, his voice tinged with worry.
"I don't know. The last I saw her, she was with you," I point out, enjoying the minty aftertaste of my drink.
"Yeah, she was with me, but then she got mad and disappeared. I've searched everywhere!" He hangs his head, squeezing his bloodshot eyes shut. "She's here somewhere. Maybe she just needs some space."
He raises his head, looking at me with those sad puppy dog eyes that make it hard to resist. "What? You want me to go look for her, don’t you?"
"Could you, please? I’ll stay here with Eliza and make sure the party runs smoothly."
I tip my glass, draining the last of my drink. “Fine. I have to get the check from Foley, anyway.” I roll my eyes, shaking my head in exasperation.
“Have I ever told you you’re the best sister in the world?” he asks, wrapping his arms around me from behind in a tight hug.
“Yeah, yeah. I'll be back. Just make sure my party doesn’t fall apart, Brady, or I swear…” I say quietly, glancing around to ensure no one hears, but he knows I’m serious. "I'll fuck you up, and you know I'm not playing."
Noticing the coasters on the bar are crooked, I straighten them into a perfect line as I get up. Brady shakes his head, letting out a scoff as he downs a shot.
“Fallon, control your crazy,” he laughs, waving me off.
Finally escaping the party’s buzz, I remember exactly where Foley’s office is and apprehensively head that way, holding my breath the entire way. I’m not sure why this man intimidates me so deeply, but if it weren’t for the fact that he stil fucking owes me a couple grand, I’d be out of here without a second thought; that’s a significant amount of money. Standing before the imposing black door, I raise my arm and gently knock, hoping he’ll hear me—and he does.
“Come in,” he calls from the other side.
I take a deep breath, steadying myself, and push the door open. Maintaining a professional smile, I step inside, closing the door behind me and approaching his desk. He stands up, rounding his desk, waving the check mockingly, almost taunting me.
"I take it you're here for this?" he smirks, a wicked grin on his face that matches the nefarious atmosphere of his mansion, sending shivers through me.
“Yes, Evander, I am.” I reach for the check, but just as my fingertips brush against the paper, he snatches it away, gripping my wrist tightly and pulling me against him. The overwhelming scent of cigar smoke and rum fills my senses, sending a delightful tingle through me.
“There’s one more thing I need from you, Fallon,” he murmurs, his eyes darkening with a dangerous gleam as they flick down to my chest, which is spilling enticingly from my dress.
I cringe, my heart pounding in my ears as a lump forms in my throat. “And what would that be?” I ask, attempting to free my wrist from his grasp, but he only grips it tighter, drawing me even closer. “Let go of me,” I demand, glaring at him, but all he does is chuckle, a smirk playing on his lips as he licks them, his gaze fixed on my breasts.
“You know who I am, don’t you, Fallon?”
