AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I thought it was Ebola in the Sudan.”
“Same thing, isn’t it,” Christo said, summing up everything that was wrong with him in four words, a remarkable undertaking.
“I’m just here to say hello.”
“No, you’re not,” Christo said in an uncommon display of intelligence. “You’re here to play a game. Like always.”
“If that’s true, then I wouldn’t tell you, would I?”
Christo shrugged. “I have bigger things to worry about tonight than you, anyway. Be coy if you like. I know what you did to Alex Roth and his wife. If you’re planning on coming after me next, that would be a mistake.”
“Would it? But you’re such a big and juicy target.”
“What do you want, Indigo?”
“Nothing,” Indigo smiled. “It’s not what I want. It’s what I have.”
“And what do you have?” Christo made a show of looking bored.
“Your daughter.”
Christo's head snapped back, an expression of smug shock appearing on those borderline aryan features of his. He could have played Captain America in almost any movie. “I don’t have a daughter, Indigo.”
“You do, actually. Product of a fling eighteen years ago. She has your eyes, and a verifiable DNA match.”
Christo went pale beneath the concealer and foundation which he would have sworn wasn’t there.
“What are you going to do…”
Indigo smiled, turned, and walked away on that note. It was vastly amusing to have the most eligible bachelor in New York, one of the richest men on the planet chasing after him through a crowd of people wearing the most priceless of artifacts and precious of metals in a display of gaudy debaucherous wealth. There were broaches in this room which, if sold, could have funded all the hospitals in the state for a decade, worn on the breasts of people who had the gumption and gall to call themselves philanthropists. But that was not the math Indigo had come to do.
He made his way toward the stage where a live band was playing. What they were about to see and hear would ensure their destruction, he was sure. There was no chance these poor saps with their long hair and excess of attitude were going to leave this party alive. Unless, of course, he chose to save them from the brutality of the financially gifted vampires spread across the dance floor, swaying not to the music but to the rhythm of something far deeper and darker.
The band stopped playing in a discordant disconnect, one instrument after the other ceasing to make music as Indigo swept across the stage.
“Hey, man…” the lead singer protested.
Indigo took the microphone out of the young man’s hand, slipped him a thousand dollar bill and murmured in his ear to leave this instant or else have death follow. He turned his back on the band and heard them scramble. Smart boys. They might yet live.
Christo’s expression was incredible. Just the perfect blend of shock, horror, and anger. But he was maintaining a veneer of propriety, so far at least. He couldn’t help it. It was the social programming which even functioned on an arrogant fop like Christo.
“We’re all here to raise money for worthy causes, and there could be no more worthy cause than ourselves, could there not?” Indigo extended his arms and smiled at the collective who were quickly falling under his sway.
A smatter of laughter skipped across the crowd in a polite, yet guarded sort of way. He was still very much among enemies, a room full of sharks circling the waters. They smelled blood, but they didn't know where it was coming from. He was about to enlighten them.
“I have a surprise addition to the auction roster. I know. I know. The auction ended hours ago and you feel as though your purse strings couldn’t get any tighter, but perhaps consider loosening them one more time for this surprise item” —he paused for a moment, for dramatic effect— “the eighteen year old heir to the entire Monteverdi fortune! Her bloodline gives you automatic rights to the entirety of Mr. Monteverdi’s considerable assets upon his passing, long may he live.”
The announcement caused what could only be described as a hubbub. It wasn’t that they were shocked a person was being sold. Nobody in this room had any qualms about trading flesh, one way or another.
“Liar!” Christo called out from the floor. “There is no heir!”
“Ah, but there is. I have her, and soon someone else, someone fortunate and rich beyond imagination will possess the fruit of your careless loins, my friend.”
“Get him off the stage…” Christo was mumbling to security. But security knew Indigo as well as anybody else in the room did and showed a spectacular reluctance to go anywhere near the dais. The event wasn’t set up for this kind of disruption, and the crowd was overruling Christo’s desires.
Indigo had done what the band and Christo had thus far failed to do — he had entertained the people.
