“Behave, Devon. I’m telling you. Don’t leave my side. If I see you taking off your mask, we’re going home immediately.”
She rolled her eyes as they entered the mansion of Maddy’s husband who’s a senator where the auction is held. Both of them are wearing a black suit and a black mask enough to cover half of their faces just like all of the people in the event for the sake of anonymity. Tonight, she’s posing as his bodyguard. It took a lot of her to convince him to let her come. If not for Henry suggesting this idea, she would still be inside the room sulking.
“I know, okay? You’ve been telling me that for ten fucking times, evil pig.”
“I’m just reminding you and stop calling me that!”
“Then stop being one,” she hissed.
They passed the security after Daemon scanned his wrist on the machine.
“Don’t you dare leave my side, you understand me? And don’t dream of escaping. I have eyes around.”
“Noted mafia boss. What else do you want me to do?” she said sarcastically and adjusted her red bow tie. She looked more like a waiter than a security guard in her outfit. Daemon insisted she wore this. Now she knew why he did it. There’s a tracker clipped on the inside.
“Don’t say anything if you see your mother. Just look at her, observe, and try to remember things. Knowing your family, they won’t wear masks so we can easily spot them. I’ll sit next to their table. Your father is just too proud to adhere to the rules of this auction. He thinks he’s above everyone else.”
“Okay, copy boss.”
Daemon narrowed his eyes on her. “Don’t play with me, Devon. Promise me.”
She readily raised her hand in the air and nodded. “I won’t, I promise. I just really want to see my mother.”
My mother. That felt awkward to say but the feeling is too familiar so she repeated saying it in her head.
A mother. She has a mother and she’s alive and she’s about to meet her now.
Daemon walked confidently in the middle of the lawn after they passed the gigantic gate and into the living room where the official auction will take place. He said tonight will be special because one of the things to be sold is a relic from ancient Egypt. He’s a collector of anything of the past and he wants it badly. The Gestoni Farrows wanted it too to adorn his home so he will not lose it to him.
“There. There’s your mother,” he whispered in her ear and subtly moved his finger towards their right side.
With a bated breath, she turned her head to their table next to them to see a woman in an elegant green long evening gown sitting beside a stern-looking man.
Melena Farrows. Her mother. Finally, she saw the woman in her hazy memory in person.
“Is that my mother?” Her voice cracked. “That is my mother?” she muttered again mind-blown by the reality that she wasn’t an orphan that she believed for a long time. “She’s so beautiful.”
“Do you remember anything?” Daemon asked while pouring himself a glass of wine. “Is she really the woman in your memory?”
She nodded without peeling her sight from her mother. “Yes, she’s the one. She’s my mother. Daemon, I think I need to hear her voice. It’s worth trying to try if my brain will react.”
“No!” he stopped her in gritted teeth. “We agreed only on seeing her. It’s quite dangerous to approach her when your father is around.”
Devon gazed at Gestoni Farrows. Even from where she’s standing, she can feel the immense authority coming from him. If Daemon emits an intimidating aura, then her father has an air of danger written on his face. Judging from how he talks with the people who stopped by his table to chat with him, he is really indeed a type of a man who will never hesitate to pull the trigger of the gun he casually kept in the holster of his pants for all to see.
Is this really the family where I came from? Devon asked herself. What kind of people are they? Did they treat me right when I was with them?
“Then we must find a way to split the two. Please Daemon, help me. I really believe that my mother could be one of the triggers that I’m searching for,” she begged.
She doesn’t care anymore if he will tease her and insult. In fact, she’s not doing it anymore because of his threats. She wants to talk to that woman to remember everything on her own will.
“You really want to talk to her?” he inquired, his eyes capturing her gaze intensely.
She gasped for air and nodded. “I do. I badly want to talk to her.”
“Then I have to leave you for a while.”
He pulled her to his seat and whispered in her ear while putting the cold heavy gun on her hand under the table.
“Keep it close to you. I treasure that gun.”
She swallowed the nails in her throat and simply agreed not because she wanted to but because she wanted him to be on his way already. Being this close to him again sent her senses into a haywire.
“Okay,” she whispered back.
“Good girl.”
The moment Daemon left her, two blonde women immediately seized the opportunity to sit beside her.
“So the great Daemon Druft decided to hire a woman for his guard? Am I seeing it right?” A woman in a black tube dress said in a disapproving tone. “What a good joke!”
“Who are you? Are you one of his obsessed fans?” The other woman holding a bottle of whiskey in her hand asked this time. “Those women who would do everything to get a minute or an hour from him? Are you one of them? Hmm?”
Devon looked around the place to find Daemon but he already disappeared from the crowd.
“Hey, we’re asking you! Didn’t you know who I am?!” Her high-pitched voice reverberated across the hall that guests began looking in their way which is not very palatable at this time.
She does not want to catch attention from the Farrows in this way. It should be in a low-profile way.
“Oh, shoot! You have a very bad attitude, girl.” The black tube girl opened her purse to reveal a small packet of white substance inside.
She had a bad feeling about these women, really bad feelings. They’re like a mean girls mafia version personified.
She glanced at the crowd again. Daemon, just where the hell are you?!