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Chapter 10 - Anna
The party was in full swing. She walked by Zeke’s side into the enormous ballroom, reminiscent of her father’s, where they’d held the ceremony celebrations. This was on an even grander scale, with rich, dark blue velvet curtains by every window, the ceiling higher and more elaborately painted than her father's. The walls were clad in tapestries, hand-sewn and antique-looking. They depicted the conquests of the rulling heads since the Kuznetsovs settled in America since they chose this city as their home. Anna’s stomach dropped. Whatever her father’s plan was, she got the distinct feeling the Kuznetsovs might not leave their hard-earned land without a fight. Every image told her that they were proud of their heritage, proud to have put down roots in this place and none other.
“Wow,” Zeke muttered.
“I know,” she practically whispered. “What if this backfires? What if they attack instead of back down?”
“They won’t,” he said, leaning down slightly, his voice filling her head with promises that heated her skin from within. “They won’t be able to ignore defeat when it’s staring them straight in the eye. Come on. Let’s get something to drink. Move around the space a bit.”
There was no staircase built in any obvious place, like the hall, because Vasili didn’t want there to be a silent invitation for strangers to roam upstairs. The stairs weren’t hidden, they just weren’t obvious, and they would have to go in search of them. This was step one.
Zeke grabbed them both some champagne off a tray, handing her a glass. She didn’t feel like drinking. She didn’t want to risk her brain getting muddled, her focus slipping. But Zeke clinked their glasses, and she had a sip, marveling at how good it tasted. She knew her mother had good taste, and her father could afford to indulge in it, but she had to admit Ivanova Kuznetsovs had an immaculate flair for the ostentatiously expensive. Anna wondered briefly what the champagne had cost per bottle and how Ivanova would survive if she suddenly had no millions to spend on her lavish parties but let the quandary slide.
It didn’t matter.
The champagne had been bought with the suffering of children.
Anna put the glass down, the taste souring on her tongue.
Zeke offered her his arm, she slipped hers through the hook he’d made, and they began to meander. There were people to greet, people to merely nod at, and some who came up to introduce themselves, offering their congratulations. Anna plastered on a smile, wanting to look meek and grateful that she was getting to partake in such a glamour event. Even though she felt sick to her stomach, seeing all these people eagerly lapping it up, most of them having to know it was all nothing but a glitzy façade.
“There,” Zeke said, nodding casually to an open door, a dark blue velvet drape tugged to one side, secured with a golden rope. Through it she spotted the lower steps of a staircase.
“Okay,” she said.
Then they both paused as a movement caught their eye, the broad shoulder of the guard on duty coming into view beyond the drape, his back to them.
“Fuck,” Zeke muttered.
Anna raised her eyebrows at him. “You didn’t think it was going to be that easy, did you?”
“Thought it might be, yeah,” he said, mock-defensively. “Any suggestions?”
“We improvise,” she said. “Follow my lead.”
They crossed the ballroom, nodding and smiling, but halfway to the door they were aiming for, Anna put a hand to her stomach and made a pained face.
“Oof,” she mumbled, reaching for Zeke’s arm.
“Are you alright?” he asked, soft alarm there that made her heart leap and bound. He cared at least on some level about her well-being. It was a start.
“I don’t feel so good,” she said, her eyes on his, the pain dissipating for a moment to let him catch on.
“Oh,” he said. “Oh, no, poor thing,” he added, concern etching itself onto that handsome face of his. “Come on, let’s get you somewhere you can sit down.”
They both ignored that the space was filled with vacant chairs, Zeke leading her up to and through the doorway, both of them ducking their heads to avoid getting caught on the drape. The guard immediately made a move towards them but stopped when he noted that she wasn’t doing too hot, his eyes widening, the hand that had gone to the holster of his gun lowering.
“Hey, what’s happening?” he asked.
“Could you get a glass of water?” Zeke asked.
Unfortunately for them, the guard didn’t even bother replying, going straight for the walkie-talkie on his belt.
Fuck.
Zeke and Anna shared a brief look as he lowered her onto the bottom step of the stairs. They couldn’t very well knock a guard out, not only was there nowhere obvious to stash him but he’d be missed within a minute, going off of the tight ship Vasili ran. Within a handful of seconds, one of the waiting staff had appeared with a glass of water, which Anna gratefully gulped down. They took another few minutes for her to begin to feel a little better, asking for the bathroom and being told it was down the corridor—which led back into the hall—and to the left down the stairs.
Thanking him, they both left the staircase behind.
