Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 52592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
I run my hands through my dark hair as I try to reckon with the failure of better judgment that I just gave in to. Even though my hair is short, the motion still tousles it, and I catch a glimpse of myself in the church's reflection window. My usual dark, tailored suit stands out against all the bright colors of the stained glass, reinforcing the imposing aura that shadows me everywhere. But even with my dark aesthetic, I’ve never found a way to conceal my blue eyes.
Going to this reception is likely a mistake. I avoid social situations almost entirely because they can sometimes lead to people wanting to connect emotionally, something that I avoid at all costs. Emotional connection means caring about someone, and for me, that means being fiercely protective. The last time I let myself be emotionally invested in anyone, I wound up with the kind of emotional and psychological scars that I will carry with me forever. Elle isn’t the only one with a traumatic past. Mine may not have been a mother, but losing a brother is just as deep a cut.
The reception is just across the street in an outdoor courtyard lit by countless strands of twinkling lights hanging in the overhead trees. It’s a mistake for me to be here. But yet, my feet keep walking until I’m inside the crowd of guests, surrounded by music, revelry, and throngs of people mingling together.
At the corner of the courtyard, I see Elle standing alone once again. I sometimes wonder if she isn’t as emotionally guarded as I am. It wouldn’t surprise me since past trauma has a way of making a person closed off—for good. It needs to stay that way, with both of us alone in our own corners of the world and of the city, once we both return to Las Vegas after this wedding is over.
The best thing that she could ever do is to stay away from me, and vice versa. My decisions in the past have gotten people I cared about killed—my inaction has gotten them killed, and that guilt will forever plague me. Now, I find it easier to simply not care about anyone.
So then, why am I here watching her from the corner of the courtyard, surrounded by all the things that I keep a distance from? Perhaps I’m driven by an obsession too—an obsession to find out if she’s as good as her file says she is, or if she’s just another mouthpiece for her corrupt father.
I should disappear, but instead, I get closer.
When her eyes find mine through the crowd, I stare back at her and don’t look away. Honestly, I’m not sure that I could look away even if I wanted to. Keeping Elle safe meant keeping her away from me—until now.
CHAPTER 4
ELLE
Attending Luc and Valentina’s wedding under the pretense of security oversight was bound to be a pretty transparent cover. But even I didn’t entirely expect to find what I was actually looking for here.
For years, I’ve felt like I’ve been hunting an apparition from my past, a set of unmistakable eyes that are embedded in memories from that night. And all this time, I’ve been waiting for the day that I see those eyes in person, in my real waking hours, so that I can finally confirm for sure that the ghost in my memories truly exists. And as soon as I set eyes on him, it instantly rekindles my consuming pursuit and awakens old trauma that has never fully healed, like a scab that I keep scratching open.
He's real. The Ghost exists.
I would recognize those eyes anywhere, and as soon as I spot them in the cathedral, I feel both validated and disarmed. I only get a glimpse of him, the striking icy gaze that looks back at me as he talks with Luc and Vincent Moretti before the ceremony begins. Then, even though I try to keep my sights on him without chancing to look away, he disappears.
I guess the rumors are true; this guy really is an apparition assassin, able to vanish into thin air just like he did that night in the alleyway.
For the rest of the ceremony, I searched the crowd for him without success. And when the ceremony concludes and the guests all start to leave and head for the reception, I try to wait and see if he comes through the only doorway in or out of the cathedral. When I don’t see him again, I make my way to the afterparty in the courtyard, hoping that he will be there too, so that I can continue on this lead. I’m not sure whether to be excited or terrified, or both, but one way or the other, I need to find out more.
The courtyard fills quickly with guests ready to enjoy the spoils of the wedding reception. Food, drinks, music, and dancing—it all erupts into full swing as soon as people filter in. There’s a chance that he won’t be here—my blue-eyed phantom. And if the rumors are true about the Ghost, he doesn’t appear very often, even in the well-kept mafia circles. I move to a corner of the courtyard where I can watch things without being approached by anyone offering trays of appetizers or looking to engage in small talk about the wedding décor. After a few minutes of scanning the crowd, I spot him.