I hated the ballet.
But here I was, in my tuxedo, awaiting a short dance presentation that Emmeline had insisted I arrive in time to see.Her statement that it would be in bad form to miss it had been followed by the promise that she’d kick my ass if I did.
You had to love powerful women, including mafia princesses. Whatever man finally caught her eye would need to have balls made of steel.
“Mr. Prince. I’m so glad you could make it.” The woman’s Russian accent caught me off guard even though Emme had run me through a few people I’d likely meet, including Irina Novikov. When I turned, she held out her hand. She was elegantly dressed in an emerald dress, and her gray hair was the only indication of her age. “Emmeline mentioned you were handsome. I must admit, her words didn’t do you justice. I was hoping she’d send you as her replacement.”
Why did I have a feeling the switch had been planned?
“Oh, you were?”
“Why, yes. The perfect Prince bachelor and since this is still a fund-raising event, your presence might loosen pocketbooks.”
I laughed and immediately pulled out a check I’d already prepared.
“Well, I hope to bring you a successful evening then. My sister is quite conniving and I see my costume is not very effective.” I touched my mask, offering a nod. The black mask that my sister had provided hid nothing. In fact, every single person in the room had already eyed me with equal parts respect and fear. As they should. I handed her the check and glanced around the perimeter.
Tonight I’d come alone, not suspecting there’d be any kind of danger. The event was too public. At least in a soirée of thisnature, I didn’t need to worry about facing unseemly customers or enemies from our past.
“Thank you for your generosity. I assure you that you’re quite recognizable with or without a costume. You are a legend in the city. Very much like your father.”
“My reputation precedes me and thank you for the compliment.” My father. A man who had ruled as if he owned everything and everyone in New Orleans. Right up until his death.
Her smile was subtle. “Very much so. I know all about the Prince family thanks to your sister, a truly generous spirit. Plus, your father and I went way back.” I could see the affection for my father in her eyes. “I am still devastated by your loss.”
I noticed true sadness in her eyes. It was entirely possible they’d been very close. My father had never been known for his fidelity.
“Ms. Novikov, thank you.”
“Please call me Irina. You’re very much like your father.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. Whatever my sister mentioned about me is all wrong. But I must admit, she didn’t tell me how beautiful you are.” I brought her hand to my lips.
She offered a coy look. “It’s not often at my advanced age I’m flirted with by a handsome bachelor. You’ve made my evening.”
“My pleasure and very true.” Russians. I hated them. But I had good reason, including how close they’d come to destroying our family. We’d fought and won many a battle with the Bratva over the past few years, most bloody and violent. All a reminder that no matter how legitimate our business became, our roots would always be in decades of unscrupulous criminal acts.
How fascinating that she’d chosen to share she’d been close with my father. It should mean nothing as she had no affiliation with the Barishnikoff Bratva that I knew of. My sister would never place herself in a dangerous situation without vetting those involved.
Not every Russian was bad, just like not every Italian was. Although…
Irina’s laugh was as gregarious as I’d heard in a long time. “I do hope you’ll enjoy the performance. We have a new member of our family, an unexpected hire than I believe will take our troupe to another level.”
She turned her attention to the makeshift stage. Fortunately, the event was being held in the ballroom of the elegant Ritz-Carlton instead of a theater setting. That allowed for drinking to handle the tediousness of the ballet.
“I’m happy for you.”
“It’s very much thanks to our benefactors such as your amazing family.”
“I must admit, I’m not in tune with the ballet.”
She patted my hand just as the lights began to dim, an indication the presentation was about to begin. “Don’t worry, Jaxon. This is a freestyle performance. Anything our artists want to do. They selected their own costumes, music, and choreography. My guess is the pieces selected are all very modern. Enjoy. Who knows. You might very well find your soulmate among the dancers.”
Why was it that everyone wanted to set me up? I was perfectly happy being a bachelor.
As she walked away, my smile began to fade. If I had to do one of these a week, my damn face would crack. I took up residence at one of the standing bar top tables, ordering a real drink while the other guests seated themselves in the velvet-draped chairs in front of the stage. I could see just fine.
Minutes later, the lights dimmed even more, only tabletop candles and the swirling glittery lights flashing across the stage providing any relief from the shadows. Thankfully, my drink arrived before the room was pitched into near total darkness. Tonight’s drink of choice? A classic bourbon from the Pappy Van Winkle collection. It was just under a thousand dollars a bottle, and the hotel was one of the few in the city who carried the expensive brand.
