Celia gestured to the stool behind Aiden. “You’ll want to sit down for this.”
How the Assassin Met the Traitor
She laughed, but her eyes looked elsewhere. An older, unwanted man stuck beside her. He likely blamed it on her hair and the way she had pleated it into a Celtic braid herself. It made her look artistic, he said. He likely blamed it on her purple halter dress with blue lace and the way it accentuated her neck and chest. He blamed it on the way the dress slit up the side, and how it fell elegantly to the floor.
He would, of course, blame it on the alcohol he insisted on buying. Glass after glass, drink after drink, he pushed for her to drink them, and he made terrible jokes she was forced to laugh at. Her eyes scanned for an escape route. Her face flushed from the alcohol, and she giggled but backed away when he leaned forward toward her.
His hand touched her wrist, and he acted like it was a happy coincidence and chuckled at it. She laughed back but wondered what she could do to change the conversation. She had come to enjoy a party. She did not come to have a man try to woo her into his bed.
“The music is so loud, isn’t it? It’s a little bothersome.” The man leaned forward more on his seat by the bar. She leaned back as naturally as she could. “Do you like these sorts of parties?”
“Well—I wouldn’t be here otherwise.” She laughed again and cleared her throat. “It’s a good networking opportunity, so this is strictly business.” She pushed the glass of alcohol aside. “Business. Like this party is supposed to be.”
“Of course. If you come with me, I have much to offer you. Professional connections. You know what position I hold in the company, right?”
“Yes! That is why I hold the utmost respect for you, and I’m glad you see so much potential in me for myownbusiness ventures.” She saw in his expression that he heard her but chose to ignore her. “While it is lovely to meet you, I do want to go and mingle about with some of the other people here. Can’t spend all night at a party speaking to a single person sitting by the bar!”
“If it is other people you want to meet, I would be more than happy to introduce you to them.” His hand latched around her wrist.
She forced a laugh, shaking her wrist, but the man’s sticky fingers held on tighter. She glanced past him in search of a stranger for help. As if hearing her silent plea, another man slammed a shot glass onto the table beside them. They both jumped. She gazed upon a young man with a devilish smile.
“Why, how dare you!”
“Mr. Jameson.” The young man leaned over and whispered into the older man’s ear.
The blood drained from the older man’s face, and he grabbed his wallet, darting away faster than anybody she had witnessed.
She turned toward her savior to thank him, but he had already sat down beside her with an amused look in his eyes. “I can’t have you kill him tonight,” he said and ordered himself a new drink. “I need him alive still.”
The light of gratitude in her eyes faded. She grabbed the drink she had coyly pushed away to drain the rest of the alcohol down her throat. “It’s not every day an ordinary man recognizes what I actually am,” she retorted. “I’ll have you know that was a good sum of money in my hands.”
The young man chuckled. “What’s your name?”
“Celia.”
“What’s your real name?”
She turned toward him. “Celia.” Her eyes dared him to ask her again. “Yours?”
“Hui Ye.”
“Cinder of the Night. How very poetic.”
“Chinese names are created with the intention of being poetic. I personally find it quite beautiful.”
“I would be kinder if it wasn’t for the fact that I will not be getting paid for my efforts tonight.” She clicked her tongue. Her heeled boots tapped on the ground. She looked to see if the man still lingered in the room, but saw not even a shadow of his existence. “Why do you even need him alive?”
“I am working on a large project, and I need his vulnerabilities to keep me afloat.” Hui Ye finished his new drink. “I apologize for forcing you to lose your money. I will pay it back.”
“I am very expensive.”
“I believe I have more.” He grinned and offered his hand.
In a connecting room to the bar, rich people danced in their fancy outfits in such boring manners she’d rather choke than mingle. However, the stranger scared off her entertainment for the night and with no other immediate alternative, she took his hand with a sigh and followed him to the dance floor. They moved in tandem, and they lowered their voices into whispers. “What gave me away?” she asked.
“Your shoes are clearly different. I’m assuming there’s a weapon hidden in there?”
“What if there is?”
