Page 45 of Targeted By Vengeance

“There is. Picture the event. Think about the people milling around the room. The things they’d be doing.”

Nodding, I thought back to the fancy events I’ve been to with my family. All the people. All the movement. All the clattering of silverware and clinks of glasses.

“Wait,” I murmured, an idea finally coming to mind. “What about the champagne? The wait staff are always carrying around glasses and passing it out to the patrons. We could spike one somehow with something lethal and make sure it goes directly to him. It’d work better if we could do it during the dinner portion where everyone’s already seated. We could swap out an old drink for the new one. One sip and…you know.”

Maria smiled. Spoken like a true pro, she signed, mouthing the words to assist with my understanding.

Mateo nodded in agreement. “Sounds like a good plan. Slipping in with the wait staff will be easy. No one bothers to look at a roster, especially at events like these. You’ll be invisible.”

“Wait, you’re sending me in to do this?”

“It’s your plan. And another chance to prove yourself as one of us. Throwing that man off a balcony was a nice warm-up. Now, it’s time to see you do the real thing. You up for that?”

“Yeah,” I said, straightening my composure. “I am.”

One corner of his mouth lifted. “Good. Because this one’s all yours.”

The flutters in my stomach from his ghost of a smile made me think he was joking. Turns out he was dead serious.

In the days leading up to the gala, he let me take charge of all the prep. While he and Maria had no problem assisting with whatever I needed, I was the one who had to make the request.

I had Maria get the seating chart and ballroom layout from the event coordinator’s files while Mateo worked on getting his hands on a poison to slip into the champagne. The only tasks I really had to do were find an appropriate uniform to blend in with the wait staff and study the event floorplans.

Since it was Roswell’s event, he was going to be the center of attention. People were going to be swarming around him all night. Meaning he wasn’t going to be paying any mind to whatever drinks or foods he plucked from passing trays. My challenge was squirming through the crowds to get close enough to him.

As I visualized the crowds and possible pathways for proximity, I was almost reminded of the undercover stints I’d done with Gabriel. They were usually similar to ones like this where it was one night and only for a few hours. We’d infiltrate organization hangouts in disguises and follow them into their vice of choice.

Now, instead of cuffing my targets, I’d be killing them.

The thought made my stomach turn on the night of the gala. I fidgeted with my earpiece for a few moments longer than I should’ve. The vial of lethal liquid in my hands weighed me down, feeling as though it was nearly a hundred pounds.

“You good?” Mateo asked, joining me at the van doors.

“Yeah,” I said with a nod.

He cocked his head, one side of his mouth turning downward in disbelief.

His expression added to my nausea. After my last mission, the last thing I wanted to do was disappoint him. Mateo didn’t seem like a man who gave second chances. It was in my best interest not to make him regret it.

I leaned up to kiss him before he could say anything. “Be right back,” I promised as I opened the van doors and hopped down onto the concrete.

My no slip shoes were silent as I hurried across the street towards the back of the hotel where the event was being held. I slipped in through the back exit of the kitchen.

Almost instantly, I was thrust into the chaos of a busy kitchen. Chefs were yelling over the sounds of chopping knives and oven alarms. Servers were bustling around near the front doors, coming in with empty trays and heading back out with full ones.

None of them paid me any mind as I made a beeline towards the rack of trays holding freshly filled glasses of champagne. Glancing over my shoulder to make sure no one was looking, I took a ribbon labeled “Reserved” and slipped it around one of the glass stems. The vial of poison followed, blending in with the bubbles.

I hoisted the tray up with one hand and held it up over my shoulder. I followed one of the other servers out the door into the main ballroom.

The elegant strings of the instruments played by the live band hovered above the soft chatter buzzing through the room. Patrons, most notably older than the crowds my mother usually ran with, were milling about.

I glanced over the crowds in search of Roswell. His head of silver hair was hard to pick out in a room damn near full of them.

Slowly, I made my way across the room, offering drinks to the other patrons I passed. While I doubted anyone was watching, I didn’t want to appear suspicious.

Within a few minutes, I spotted Roswell near the stage where the live band played. His arm was around his noticeably younger wife, and he was laughing at whatever the man on the other side of him was saying.

Unlike last time, I didn’t read too much into his file. I didn’t need to know about his hobbies or his family or his life. That’d lead to me humanizing him and second guessing delivering death to his doorstep. All I needed to know was the plan to kill him.