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“Good night, Illyria,” Giovanni chuckled before hanging up. Knowing I didn’t have time to sit and dwell on what I just learned, I made a mental note to investigate the matter later.
Right now, I had somewhere I needed to be.
I nervously stepped out of the limo as flashes of light blinded me. Tonight was a big night for the New York Public School System. The Museum of Natural History annual fund raiser was a major cash cow for the public school system. Anyone who was anyone was going to be here tonight to help support the schools of New York city.
Making my way through the throngs of paparazzi, I avoided answering questions. This wasn’t my first rodeo and God willing, it would be my last. Contrary to everyone’s beliefs, I hated these events. I found them suffocating as the rich lorded and showed off their wealth as if it was something to admire. My brothers avoided these events like the plague, only attending if I begged them.
It wasn’t that I couldn’t handle these events on my own.
I could. I’ve been to enough of these things to navigate my way through with little fanfare. No, I asked them to go so I wouldn’t be alone. While my brothers thought I lived for these events, they didn’t know how lonely they were.
Groomed for this life from birth, my mother would trod me out in front of society without a single thought. With my father always busy, I would keep my mother company. When she died and I stepped into her shoes, I never realized how lonely it all was. In a room of hundreds of people, I never felt so alone in my life.
Then Maxim would be there, and it was as if we were the only ones in the room. For a few short years, I looked forward to these events because it was one of the few times my family and the public could see us together without raising anyone’s suspicions.
Now, everything had changed.
Making my way through the crowd, I smiled, kissed, talked and shook hands with everyone, giving them my customary five minutes of attention as they gushed at their accomplishments like they were world altering. I learned early on that those who attended these events didn’t give a damn about the charity event they were attending.
All they cared about was their social status.
They were only here to be seen.
That was it.
It was going to be another long night. I didn’t want to be here. Especially so soon after momma died. But someone had to represent the family. The whole family was still in mourning. I should have been home with my brothers, grieving. Instead, I was walking into the Chicago Art Institute for their yearly fundraising event.
I couldn’t remember what charity they were sponsoring this year. Not that it mattered. These events were never about charities.
It was about them.
The ones with money.
The ones who didn’t give a damn if I just lost my mother.
All they cared about was my families’ money.
“Illyria, my dear,” a whiney voice said, causing me to stop in my tracks. Fuck. I really didn’t want to speak with this bitch.
Plastering on my signature fake smile, I turned.
“Mrs. Hilton. How lovely to see you,” I greeted her by air-kissing both her cheeks. The woman reeked of expensive perfume and powder. What the hell did she do? Bathe in the stuff? Dressed in her designer clothes, her vagrant jewelry display was gaudy for an event like this. Yet that never stopped her. Rules of decorum and dress flew out the window with women like her. It was all about status.
Who had the best dress?
Who had the best jewelry?
Who had the most scandalous date?
The list went on and on.
“How are you, my dear?” she fussed, fishing for information. Laura Hilton was the city of Chicago’s biggest gossip and from one of the wealthiest families. Invited to everything, Laura Hilton spent her evenings at one social event or another. The woman was everywhere. No one escaped her perusal and inspection. “When I heard about Nicoletta, I almost cried.”
Almost?
Bitch, don’t fuck with me tonight.
“How am I ever going to find another partner for our bridge club?”
