21. Chilling Visions.

In the midst of the night, silver of the moonlight spilt on two figures. 

Not quite the hot dark of the embers, but a soft, hopeful dark.

"Enough with the storm, now, Althea," came the deep voice of a male.

"I heard you are going to a gala, master," she spoke, voice filled with naughtiness.

He didn't choose to answer her as she continued, "When are you letting me come with any of these parties... where there are actually people."

Her eyes were sparkling, twinkling violet eyes.

"It's not my party, Althea," he simply answered, his hand slid back to the pocket of his pant.

"So, arrange one... it's not a hard job for a person like you to arrange a business party," her words made him a nod once.

"After all, you are Darby Rothschilds... people fear of you," her words were taunting, a hint of a chuckle in her tone.

"You don't get to call me by my name, Althea. Just master..." he said in hushed tones.

"What have you