Chapter 4 - | A Roomful of Regrets

𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑰𝒏 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑷𝒂𝒔𝒕

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐀𝐒

The lighting in the hall was dim and beautiful. It had deep hues of blue, gold, and red, and there wasn't a way in the world you wouldn't feel drugged by the intensity of the atmosphere. It was simply extraordinary. And if this was my kind of scene, a relaxed me might have been somewhere in the middle of the gallery, making conversation with the many beautiful ladies scattered around the foyer.

But well, it wasn't.

I was practically invisible considering the angle at which I was lurking, and I didn't care. I haven't cared much for what people said about me in a long time, and I wasn't going to start caring now. Moreover, being in this scene at all was nothing but a benefit, or better put, a means to an end.

I leaned back on the slick cotton behind me, resting my back on a cold, yet smooth wall, a welcome reprieve from the strain I felt from my shoes. These damn shoes anyway! How I wish I hadn't taken Damien's advice.

The smug bastard.

With a sigh of resignation, I consoled myself with the thought of what brought me here in the first place; my next assignment, which usually meant more money.

I hoped for my sake and Damien's it was worth it. Because watching beautiful bodies dance around the posh floors of the foyer wasn't going to cut it if this went sideways.

I plucked a glass of sparkling wine from a passing waiter and reclined back into the shadows. Where the hell was he anyway?

As I took a sip of the sinfully delicious wine, a light caught my vision. Right there on the wooden stairs were legs that as I began to follow up its curves, seemed to go on for days. My eyes trailed the silky smooth curves of those shapely legs until they reached knees that were barely clad with a glittering silver gown, which clung to her like a second skin. I was transfixed, hooked on knees that wouldn't have been visible if not for the slit that cut through the side, which exposed her legs along with her creamy thighs.

Fuck.

Who the hell was this?

My eyes continued their curious exploration as they trailed across her thighs, up the curl of her hips, the tightness of the belly, her luscious breast, her bare shoulders, the curve of her neck, and then finally, her face. This was the part that got to me, this part, besides other sumptuous parts of her, was the part that had me reeling back in shock and recognition.

How long was it exactly? Eight, Seven years? But God! She looked a million times sweeter than the tabloid said, than her pictures showed, damn, even more than what God intended for her I was sure.

She began her slow walk down the stairs, capturing every human attention as she did. The way she carried herself, the way she moved with so much poise and innocence was blinding. No one in the room didn't pause to breathe her in. She was magnificent, affluent, flawless, perfect, and way out of my league. She was too pure to ruin. And even if she was available for spoiling, I wasn't going to be the one to do it. I couldn't be.

There was just something about her, something that brought out the sinister part of me. I couldn't just place my fingers on it. Right from when we were kids. When she was seven and I was ten. I wanted her then and I still want her now. Too bad life didn't give you want you wanted, only what you took. I began to look around. If Damien didn't appear soon, I might end up doing something relatively stupid.

I tried taking my eyes away from her for a second to search for him. I tried, but I just couldn't. No one could. This kind of attraction wasn't good for business, which was why she was never going to be a job.

My eyes involuntarily slid back to her. I watched as she glided down the stairs, her eyes down, shoulders high, and fingers gripping the banister so tightly, her knuckles turned white. This was the only indication of how nervous she was. On reaching the end of the steps, she strode into the arms of the well-built man who was patiently waiting for her with his arms stretched wide and a serious smile on his face.

If only I could get a closer look at her blue eyes. The last time I saw them they were filled with childish tears. It would be a risk, but a risk worth taking. All I had to do was slide in as her dance partner for a minute and I'll have her in my arms - for I knew I might not get this opportunity again. I began making my way to her when a hand closed over my left shoulder and I jerked back in surprise.

"Why so jumpy, Lucas?" I heard an annoying voice ask.

Ignoring the question, I turned to him, "Where the fuck is Damien? He kept me waiting out here for almost---"

"Everybody knows you hate being kept on hold." He cut in.

"More like being bored to death," I countered and then turned to fully face him. "Why isn't he here?" I asked with a growl. I was surprised Damien had sent Jude to deliver a package as important as this. Jude was just an upcoming gigolo who still had a lot to learn. Whatever Damien was playing at was going to earn him a tongue-lashing and a few blows.

"He probably had some stuff to attend to. Why don't just call him up yourself and stop-," Jude almost choked on his words when he saw me taking a menacing step towards him, making my intentions known with a flip of my blazer which revealed a Glock 17 resting between my midriff. A smirked inwardly as I watched the look on his face transform into something beautiful. Fear.