Page 155 of Pandora's Pleasure
I didn’t have that long, but I went for it anyway.
I implemented a mirror scan in case Galante had a back-up file of the BODI stored anywhere. Finding none, I opened up a brand-new document in the cloud.
And hit TRANSFER.
I should have brought Pandora with me to the Fairmont.
Her absence felt like a strike against me. All my life I’d done exactly what was expected, but I was over that now.
In my alcohol-infused state, I studied the guests. They drank the booze my father had provided for them—champagne and hard liquor, while the hotel staff offered up a variety of canapés and confections.
There were at least five hundred guests mingling in the ballroom, everyone networking their hearts out to forge the way for their own personal gains. Phones came out and heads went down between calculating conversations, the lights from their devices shimmering amidst the mass of bodies.
I’d mastered the art of escaping to a quiet corner where I would hang out with those few sincere friends I’d made over the years. Though right now, I stood alone nursing a drink. Solitude didn’t reflect my ambition, I had plenty of that still left in the tank. This was about me wanting to fight for my own causes—the ones that lifted poverty off the shoulders of the needy.
I would not be derailed.
Sipping my Macallan, I reluctantly offered friendly nods to those who looked my way. With Pandora not being here, the event felt even more stifling than usual.
“Hey.” Theo rested a hand on my shoulder. “How’s it going?”
“Hey.” I gave a shrug.
“It’s going well so far, right?” He looked around as though genuinely interested in the crowd.
I arched a brow to reveal he’d triggered my senses. He knew I was on to him.
“They asked me to do the deed.” He cringed. “Not sure why.”
“Because I trust you?”
That blow hit him hard enough to make him flinch. “Need a cigarette?”
“I don’t smoke. I gave it up, remember?”
“I know, but for some reason you’re always asking me if I have one anyway. And I have one.”
“You told me I had to be strong during times of stress.” I looked over at him, noticing his frown. “What’s wrong?”
He let out a frustrated sigh. “I have the piece they’re going to run in a few hours. It’ll explain why you and Pandora haven’t been seen together for a while—the fact that lately you’ve had to put some distance between the two of you. But it’s vague.”
I glared at him. “Right beforeReal Nationruns its story on her dad tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry, Damien.” He raised his phone. “Want to see?”
“No.”
“It needs your approval.” He looked apologetic.
“They’re gonna have a long wait.”
“There’s some movement on the Fairfield Project, I hear.”
Raking my fingers through my hair, I tried to keep my expression serene for any of the political influencers who might be watching. “Sure does sound like blackmail.”
“Want to go outside for some fresh air?”
My back stiffened. “The Fairfield Project will go ahead as planned, regardless.”
