Victorious Vice, page 9
“I’m flattered, Ms. Bellamy.” He pauses. “When did you say your gala will be?”
“In a few weeks. You would be invited, as well as Mrs. Michaels.”
“There isn’t a Mrs. Michaels.”
I slap my palm to my forehead. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.”
“Not a problem. I’m divorced.” He chuckles. “Perhaps I’ll see if I can scare up a date.”
“You would both be welcome. We won’t be starting board meetings until after the gala, so you wouldn’t have to do anything until then but show up.”
“Sounds good.”
“So you’ll join the board?”
“I would be delighted to.”
“Wonderful. I’m actually resting up a bit before the gala, so my sister and my attorney will be the main contacts. But this number is my personal number, so please feel free to call me if you have any questions.”
“Glad to, Ms. Bellamy. I’ll see you in a few weeks.”
“Yes, you will.”
“Ciao.”
The call ends.
Ciao? That wasn’t how I would expect a doctor to end a call. Dr. Michaels seems like an interesting fellow. But I did my research on him before calling. He graduated top of his class at the Northwestern Feinberg School of Medicine, did several stints of service with Doctors Without Borders, and has glowing reviews from his patients online.
I don’t have much time to think about it, because my phone then starts ringing. A number I don’t recognize.
Probably a telemarketer, but the area code is local. It could be someone calling about the gala. I bring the phone to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Yes, hello. Is this Raven Bellamy?”
“Speaking. Who, may I ask, is this?”
“Smith. Jack Smith, Ms. Bellamy. I’m calling you about your foundation.”
His voice is deep, but it has a bit of a squeak to it. He sounds almost nervous on the other line. But if this is a potential donor, I’ll keep talking to him.
“Yes, did you have any questions? Perhaps you’re interested in making a donation?”
He chuckles lightly. “I already made a donation, Ms. Bellamy. I submitted it through your attorney.”
Oh, my God. The money didn’t come from my father?
“Are you the anonymous donor? The fifty million?”
He pauses. “Yes, I am.”
“Wow, sir. I wish there was a proper way to express my gratitude. Money like that is going to really get the foundation started off right.”
“That was my hope. And there is a way you can express your gratitude.”
“Yes, sir. Anything.”
He pauses. “I would like for the donation to remain anonymous. I don’t want any glory. But I understand that there is a gala coming up. I would love a seat at the table. I’m willing, of course, to pay for my plate.”
“That won’t be necessary, sir. Your donation more than makes up for it.” I pull up the guest list on my laptop. “There are a few empty seats available. I’m having my attorney work on filling them, but I’ll absolutely make sure one of them stays open for you. Jack Smith, you said?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’ll mark you down. You will be most welcome, Mr. Smith.”
“Please, call me Jack.”
“Of course. Jack.”
I’ll call him Your Majesty if he wants, for that kind of money.
“I’ll send you an official invitation if you’d like. That has all the information you’ll need.”
“I actually got the information already. A friend of mine is one of your board members. That’s why I called. I’ll be there with bells on, as they say.”
Interesting. Maybe he’s a friend of Robin’s. Or more likely my father’s.
“Then it sounds like you’re all squared away. We will see you at the gala, Mr. Smith. And thank you once again, from the bottom of my heart. This kind of money is going to do an immeasurable amount of good.”
“I’m sure it will, Ms. Bellamy. Take care.”
Three weeks later…
I’m finally back at my own home.
The weeks at the safe house passed uneventfully, thank God.
I chose the evening gown myself from an online catalog. I sent my measurements to a dressmaker, and the gown is waiting for me when I’m finally allowed to return to my home.
The gala is tonight.
A hairstylist—I have hair now, though it’s only an inch or so long—and makeup artist arrive to help me get ready.
The gown is a deep emerald green, a color that complements my dark hair. The fabric is a rich, flowing silk velvet. The gown is tailored with a strapless sweetheart neckline and a delicate bodice with intricate beading and tiny emerald crystals.
I’ve managed to put on some weight, so the gown fits me beautifully.
I’ve been practicing what I’ll say. I asked my father to say a few words to introduce me.
Hawk will escort me, as Falcon will be escorting Savannah.
How I wish I could arrive on Vinnie’s arm.
But it’s not to be.
Jared, of course, will also be accompanying Hawk and me. But he’s promised to be discreet. Most of the guests don’t know that I’ve hired a bodyguard as personal security, and I don’t want them to feel as if something bad might happen during the event.
“Your hair is coming in beautifully,” the stylist says.
I frown. “I suppose I don’t really need a stylist.”
“Don’t be silly. You’re going to look elegant. Have you thought about earrings?”
“Some emeralds, I think. My mother has some she’s lending me.”
“Perfect. Where are they?”
“In that box over there on the dresser.”
The stylist returns, holding the earrings. “These are beautiful. And I see there’s a necklace to go with them. May I?”
“Yes, please.”
She places the necklace around my neck and puts the earrings through the pierced holes in my ears. “Lissette did a beautiful job with your makeup. You look lovely.”
“I definitely needed some blush,” I say. “I haven’t seen the sun in a while.”
“Busy making arrangements for the gala?”
I bite my lip. “In a way. Either way, I’m looking pretty pale.”
“Don’t be silly. You have a lovely tone to your skin.”
“That comes from my mother. She’s Mexican. But none of my brothers and sisters are as dark as she is.”
The stylist smiles. “She must be a beauty.”
“Yes, she is.”
I’m looking forward to seeing my mother and my father tonight. I haven’t seen anyone besides Jared for the last several weeks.
“All right,” the stylist says. “Stand up now and take a look at yourself in the full-length mirror.”
I do so, and I can’t help a gasp as I look at myself.
My dark, short hair is styled sleek, and though I never imagined myself with short hair, I have to admit it looks a lot better than no hair at all. In fact, it looks pretty smart and sophisticated. Maybe I’ll keep it.
“What do you think?” the stylist asks.
I turn to her, beaming. “I can’t thank you enough. You came highly recommended, and I see why.”
She smiles. “Lissette and I are a team. We have our own salon in Austin if you’d ever like to visit us there.”
“I absolutely will.”
“Perfect. If you’re done, I’ll pack up, and you can be on your way.”
“Yes, the gala is in San Antonio. Not quite as far away as Austin.”
“I’m sure it will be a lovely affair.”
I can’t help myself. I walk swiftly toward her and give her a hug. “Thank you. Thank you for helping me to remember that I’m beautiful.”
“You’re radiant,” she says. “You have lovely thick dark hair, and fine features. But even if you didn’t have that, your radiance comes from inside, Raven. Anyone can see it. And no one can cover it up.”
Once the stylists are gone, I take another look at myself.
I’m glad she thinks I’m radiant. All I think and think about is that I haven’t seen the sun for so long. When I got to leave that bunker this morning, I just wanted to stand in the daylight and do nothing.
That’s what I’ll do tomorrow. After the festivities.
No way am I going back to that safe house. I’m going to lie in the sun all day.
Someone knocks on my door. It’s Jared, of course. No one else is here. I open it.
His dark eyes widen. “You look amazing.”
“You’re not so bad yourself.” He fills out his tuxedo perfectly with his muscled body.
“Your brother has arrived.”
“All right. I’m ready.”
Hawk is maybe the most handsome of all my brothers. The tallest of the three at six foot five, he’s the only one to inherit our father’s eyes. With his tanned skin tone and black hair, they stand out in a brilliant sky blue.
His tux is jet black, of course, with silver button covers, and around his neck is an emerald-green bow tie.
“No bolo?” I tease him.
“God, no. I hate those things. I can’t believe Dad still wears them.”
I giggle. “Well, he’s a Texan through and through.”
He smiles at me. “You look gorgeous, sis.”
“Thank you. I wasn’t sure the stylist would be able to do much with my hair, but I’m amazed.”
He squints. “And your eyebrows, they’re all grown back.”
“Pretty much.” I take out a compact and admire them. “Just a little help from an eyebrow pencil.”
“And are those your lashes?”
“Falsies,” I say. “But mine are coming back in strong.”
We leave my house, and a black limo stands out front.
I turn to my bodyguard, raising a penciled-in eyebrow. “You’re not driving us, Jared?”
“Nope,” he says. “Your brothers insisted that you go in style tonight.”
“That’s wonderful,” I say. “You can come with us. That way you don’t have to drive.”
He smirks. “I know what my job is, Raven. You won’t be out of my sight all night, and that includes the drive. I’ll be right across from you.”
The driver gets out of the limo, opens the door, and Hawk helps me in. He slides next to me, and Jared slides in after him, taking the seat facing us.
“Champagne?” Hawk asks.
An open bottle sits in the center console, and three flutes sit in secure holders.
“Oh no, I couldn’t,” I say. “I’m still not drinking much with my meds and all. Besides, I’m way too nervous and excited.”
“You don’t mind if I have a glass, do you?” Hawk asks.
“Of course not.”
“Jared?” he asks.
“As much as I’d love it, I need my full faculties tonight.”
Hawk nods. “Of course.” He expertly pours himself a glass of the sparkling wine and takes a sip. “Good stuff.”
The drive is about an hour, and though I’m used to wearing sweats and loose T-shirts, I’m not uncomfortable in the elegant dress. I’ve missed this. I’ve missed dressing up, going out.
Growing up, I was always the girly girl while Robbie was the tomboy. She grew out of a lot of it, and I’m sure she’ll look beautiful tonight at the gala. But this is me in my element. I love beautiful clothes. I love looking pretty. I love being noticed.
I got my fair share of being noticed during my treatment. On the occasions when I wasn’t in the hospital, people would stare at my bald head. I got used to it. But now I’m going to be noticed because I look pretty.
I feel like myself again.
When we arrive at the gala, the driver gets out and opens the door for us. Hawk exits first and helps me to my feet. Jared follows.
Photographers are flashing, and reporters are there.
“Ms. Bellamy,” a reporter asks me. “Would you like to say a few words before you enter your gala?”
“Good evening,” I say. “Thank you for being here. I’m very excited to get my new foundation off the ground.”
Photos are snapped, and Hawk waves away the rest of the reporters as we enter the grand lobby of the hotel where the gala is being held.
Then the ballroom. It’s early yet, and only the organizers are here, along with Robin, Emily, CJ, and my parents. Falcon and Savannah enter soon after. The silent auction is set up on one side of the wall. The bar is open, and my father is already drinking a bourbon.
“Let’s get you a sparkling water or something,” Hawk says.
“That sounds great.” I swallow. “My throat is drying up.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Jared stays a few feet away from me, unobtrusive.
Hawk returns from the bar and hands me my drink with a huge smile.
I drop my jaw as I notice the vivid color of the liquid in the glass. “Oh my God, is that Orange Crush?”
His grin widens. “Do you think your sister would set up a gala for you and not be sure that the bar was stocked with your favorite?”
I take a sip and then notice a woman I haven’t seen in weeks pass by.
“Oh my God, Robin!” I grab my sister as she walks by and give her a big bear hug.
“You’ll muss my dress, Ray,” she says.
Robin looks gorgeous, of course. She’s wearing flaming red. She’s always been able to get away with stuff like that. Her dress isn’t quite as formal as mine. It’s a sheath that goes midway down her calves. On her feet are strappy silver sandals with platform heels, the kind of shoes I would’ve worn before I got sick. I’m wearing simple black pumps tonight. I didn’t want to take the chance of stumbling. It’s been years since I’ve had actual heels on.
My attorney, Emily, is on the stage at the podium getting ready to make some announcements once more attendees get here. Already they’re coming in droves, and soon the ballroom is buzzing with conversation.
The ballroom is softly illuminated by chandeliers hanging high above, and the women’s gowns shimmer in the light, while the men, impeccably dressed in tailored suits and tuxedos, exude sophistication.
Bartenders, dressed in crisp black-and-white uniforms, serve up a variety of cocktails and champagne, including the signature cocktail for the evening, a prickly pear margarita for a Texas touch. The faint sound of ice dropping into glasses accompanies the vibrant hum of the guests conversing.
Across the ballroom, the silent auction has begun, and clusters of attendees are mingling near the tables showcasing an array of luxury items up for bid. A soft ping from phones alerts guests as bids are placed, but other than that people are socializing quite nicely without staring at screens.
The string quartet—Robin was right about hiring college students from UT—plays softly in the background. The guests, who are a mix of socialites, philanthropists, and corporate leaders, move fluidly between the bar, the auction tables, and each other, exchanging greetings, smiles, and introductions.
Waiters glide through the room with trays of hors d’oeuvres—delicate smoked salmon canapés, mini truffle tarts, and brie bites—offering guests a taste before the formal dinner begins. Robin’s friend Lorraine really outdid herself. I’ll be having her cater all of my future donor events for sure.
The mini truffle tart is savory and delicious, and as I swallow it and take a bite of my brie, I look around.
Hawk is in conversation with Jared, and I look toward the entrance where people are still arriving.
And I swallow my brie bite nearly whole, taking a quick drink of my Orange Crush to avoid choking.
A man is here.
And he looks even better than I remember.
He’s here.
Vinnie Gallo is here.
And he’s not alone.
16
VINNIE
I returned several days ago, my new bride in tow.
Mario was pleased with the results of my trip, even though I wasn’t able to complete the negotiations with Agudelo. One part I did complete was taking Daniela as my wife.
With her father’s permission, we were married in Colombia the day before I left.
Daniela and I had already agreed that the marriage would not be consummated. She just wanted to get out of Colombia, and I was her ticket.
Declan McAllister won’t be pleased, but that doesn’t matter much to me. The marriage to Daniela is in name only, and once she has legal status in the US, I will be annulling it.
These are the terms she and I have agreed to. They’re not the terms set by her father, but I don’t care.
However, I’ve come across some information that has me on edge.
Raven’s life is in danger. Not from Mario or from Declan McAllister. Not even from Jacinto Agudelo.
From someone else.
And as I think about it, I still can’t believe it.
One week earlier…
My negotiations on the territory for the cartel are nearly complete, and earlier today, with Agudelo’s permission, I took Daniela as my wife.
The last couple of nights, though, the shuffling and banging that seems to be coming from my ceiling has become louder and more persistent.
It’s got me on edge, and with this entire place surveilled all times, I can’t exactly figure out where the sound is coming from or what it is.
Agudelo is gone a lot, overnight trips nearly every other day. But he’s always back here for lunch, where we continue our negotiations.
He left again this afternoon for another overnight trip, and I’ve decided that surveillance be damned. I’m going to figure out what is going on above me.
And Daniela is going to help me.
I knock on the door to her room.
“Yes?” she says through the door.
“It’s Vinnie. May I come in?”
“Of course.”
I open the door. Daniela is in her sitting area, working on her laptop. Over the last few days, I’ve found out she’s quite intelligent. Of course, I already knew that her love of cooking knows no bounds, and she really wants to study at the Cordon Bleu in Paris. But her knowledge expands outside of her culinary interests. She’s never left Colombia, but she knows so much about the culture and politics of Europe and the Americas. She and I have had many a late-night conversation about my overseas days, and her broad understanding of the way the world works is impressive, especially for someone of her young age.
