Page 133 of Pink

Hence Haven Marcello currently sitting next to Lev in the front row. Her name had been more than enough to get him and the other enforcers tickets. Problem was, once they were inside the venue waiting for the show to start, they were seated and expected to stay there. Especially because they were in the front row, and the show was being recorded to be televised at a later date.

Because that wasn’t problematic at all.

“Phones on mute,” a man from down the way in a black tuxedo barked at Haven when her cell dinged in her lap again.

To her benefit, she didn’t even blink a lash before she raised one perfectly manicured, red stiletto fingernail high. Her middle finger. The guy’s jaw dropped as he stiffened, grunted under his breath, and then spun on his heel to head for the men at the far end of the seats with comms in their ears.

“Don’t get us kicked out,” Lev said under his breath.

She only laughed. “Right. Little late for that. Show’s about to start.”

Was it?

Lev couldn’t tell.

The flashing blue and pink lights overhead moved in time with the music pumping through the place. At the far end of the runway, shimmery drapery hung in heavy piles, spilling to the floor like glimmering puddles. The same material had been strung across the ceiling overhead, connecting overtop the middle of the runway where a chandelier hung down that was the size of a small car.

He only needed to glance at the faces in the front row seats to get a good culture shock. Never in his life had he seen so many celebrities in the same place together, let alone this close to him. Not that he cared who they were or that they were there.

It was just … different.

A whole new world.

As a man stepped out on the runway at the far end, a microphone in hand, Lev moved a bit to the left so that he could meet the gaze of one of the enforcers across the way from him. The seat next to the man was empty making Lev raise his brow in silent question. Todd answered back with a tap to his left temple and then pointed toward the bathrooms.

“Seriously?”

Todd shook his head, mouthing, “Doing a walk around.”

Huh.

Well, at least one of them was able to do something. That was fucking better than nothing.

During the exchange, Lev managed to miss the announcements made by the man with the microphone. He caught on soon enough when the start of the show was made abundantly clear by the famous singer that came rushing through the piles of shimmering fabric, belting out her latest single that was constantly played on the radio. In towering heels and a white leather ensemble that showed more skin than it covered, the singer twirled and whirled her way closer to the middle of the runway while singing all at the same time.

The lights changed, spinning faster.

Lev’s attention snapped back and forth between the singer, the lights driving him crazy overhead, and the fabric at the far end of the runway where Gigi would soon come through to really start the show.

“Opening the Delavange show for the season,” came a voice through the speaker system, “is Miss Gigi Rey!”

Lev’s stare locked on the end of the runway, beyond the singer and the crowd and everything … because this felt important for Gigi. In fact, he knew it was. Despite everything else going wrong in her life, this was a moment she had worked hard for and deserved.

She came out of the piles looking like a complex in heels. Ethereal in a white and silver bra and panty set with matching garter, and yet fierce in every sense of the word as she stepped forward.

She was godly, even.

He didn’t want to say angelic. That wasn’t even good enough to describe the massive glittering wings that loomed high from her back, spread wide on either side of her thin frame. She took two steps, legs gleaming straight down to the silver, diamond-encrusted six-inch heels on her feet. The extra ten inches of length in her blonde hair had been set in large curls that framed her face. A face painted to perfection with red lips and smoked out eyes stared out toward the end of the runway without fear.

Ready, he knew.

He didn’t know if it was standard or normal for the crowd to be on their feet at the opening model, but they were. Clapping. He joined in with Haven standing next to him at the same time he noticed the other enforcer returning to his seat with a security guard—not one of Gigi’s, but for the event—at his side.

There seemed to be a note or beat Gigi was waiting for and once the singer hit it, she started her walk. Every step hit the runway hard with confidence. Her hips swayed with the beat, and her walk until she came to the middle of the runway where the singer was belting out the chorus. She stopped to do a little spin with the singer, hand in hand, the wings on her back fluttering open from the air catching under the feathers.

And then she was right back on it.

All the way down the runway.