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“At a party like this?” another laughs. “The last we attended had fire-eaters hanging from the ceiling and girls with snakes wrapped around them serving cocktails. These folks got strange tastes.”
The other men nod and snicker as they stare at one another.
"Thank you," I reply, gushing despite the pounding in my chest. My mind begins to go through a checklist of something that might hit the mark just right, and I shortlist what I can and can’t do. I can’t show any tricks of thievery, but perhaps something else from the things I picked up at the circus? “Where’s the manager?” I say.
“Right there,” they point to a guy in jeans and a polo with dark glasses on.
I work my way through the crowd, finding him. As I approach the manager, I steel myself for the conversation ahead. This is just the beginning, and there's no room for hesitation or fear. I need this gig. It’s the only way I can get a foot in the door and form some sort of strategy that could work to complete my mission.
"Watch out, Fiero Cremaschi," I think, a fire burning within me. "I'm coming for you."
And then, I’d never have to see a mafia man again. I could leave this world behind and find somewhere safe to live—maybe near a beach.
"Hey," I greet the manager. "I've been hearing that there are some job opportunities up for grabs. Can you help me out?"
He studies me for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as he assesses my appearance. He's a middle-aged man with a stern expression, and he takes a whole minute to assess me from head to toe. I can feel the weight of his scrutiny and shuffle my feet.
"Excuse me," I say, my voice steady despite the unease that claws at my insides as I try to get him to talk and open up. "I've been told you're the person to speak to about possible job openings. Was I guided in the wrong direction? If you could just help me meet the person in charge?"
He raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by my forwardness. "And who might you be?"
"Romola Toscani," I reply without hesitation, my eyes locked onto his. I don’t care about keeping it first name anymore. I’m going to finish this mission and be out, and then I can buy a goddamn new identity. "I'm interested in working for this party tonight. I really need the work. I’ve got a kid, and money’s tight."
"Is that so?" his skepticism is palpable in his tone. "What sort of job would you do, exactly?"
"I heard you’re out of an entertainer tonight," I answer simply.
“And what sort of entertainment do you provide?” he scoffs. His judgment burns at me.
"I lived in the circus as a kid. Mom was into acrobats, Papa into tricks. I picked up certain things, and for tonight, I might just have what you need," I say, turning my voice to a mystic one. "I know how to read crystal balls."
The manager's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, his skepticism momentarily replaced by curiosity. "Is that so?" he asks, clearly intrigued by my claim.
"Sure is," I respond, maintaining eye contact to show him that I'm serious. "It’s magical, really. We put up a beautiful stall with shimmering curtains and a whole facade. I dress in silver, with hair all down, and it’s magical, really, never failing to captivate people. It could be a valuable addition to your events."
He scrutinizes me for a moment, his eyes flickering with uncertainty, but there's a spark of interest there. Slowly, he nods, apparently impressed by my claim. "Well, miss, we are truly fucked without the entertainers who backed out." He extends his hand to shake mine, a small smile playing on his lips. "Welcome to the team. What circus were you with again?"
“The Tuscan Travellers,” I say.
He nods. “I know them, they’re good.”
"Thank you," I gush, grasping his hand firmly again, feeling a renewed sense of determination course through me. This is my chance to infiltrate Fiero's life and find the diamond. And if reading crystal balls can get me closer to my goal, then I'll embrace the role wholeheartedly. "I promise you won't regret this. I'll prove myself."
"See that you do," he replies, his small smile lingering as he releases my hand. “Go to that woman and explain your set decor.” He flags down a guy and tells him to take me and explain that it’s the boss’s orders. Our eyes lock for a moment before he turns away.
As I watch the manager walk away, I can't help but feel a surge of triumph. This is it—my chance to infiltrate Fiero's world, bring Rafaele the diamond, and finally put this behind me. The road ahead will be treacherous, filled with danger and uncertainty, but I am ready.
Chapter 24
Fiero
I walk through the compound grounds, giving little smiles and looking away. Over the years, I’ve perfected the timing. A second longer, and people walk over to talk. With hundreds present and the sole host, I barely have time.
It’s a beautiful night. Crisp, yet warm enough for women to wear low-plunging, high-slit dresses with simple summer stoles draped over their shoulders. The party was a success.
I can tell because some of the men are already going red in the face with too much wine, their ties loosening with each successive glass. The ice sculptures, beautiful figurines of mystical creatures, glisten next to the champagne towers.
The hors d’ouvres are small and dainty, the ingredients flown in from across Europe and Southeast Asia.
