9

Chapter 9: Almost...

Maya's POV

For a moment, I just stood there staring at Ace, wondering if I'd heard him correctly. He wanted me to come with him? As in, walk out of this horrible mansion, past Lorenzo's guards, and leave without having to hide inside some entertainer's bus?

Oh, thank God. I almost laughed, but then I remembered one very important problem. The Rossis had registered every performer entering the estate tonight, and if one disappeared without explanation, somebody might start asking questions

"There's something you should know," I said, trying to hold my ruined neckline together without looking too ridiculous. "I'm registered as one of the entertainers tonight. They have our names and assignments, so if I suddenly disappear, the supervisor might report it."

Ace glanced at my dress, then at my face. Whatever he thought of my explanation, he clearly wasn't interested in discussing it. "Get dressed. You have two minutes." He stepped into the corridor, already speaking to someone outside, and I was left staring after him.

Two minutes? Seriously? The man had practically destroyed my dress, and now he expected me to repair it faster than a professional tailor.

I hurried toward my bag anyway, searching for the safety pins Clara had insisted I bring. My fingers were shaking so badly that I dropped one, and while I crouched to retrieve it, a familiar voice came through my earpiece.

"Maya, please tell me he's actually taking you."

I nearly smiled. "He is. Clara, I think I'm really getting out."

"I know. I heard him."

Something about the way she said that made my hand stop moving. Heard him? He'll yeah she'd heard him. The receiver had been connected the entire time, which meant she'd also heard everything else that happened in this room. Every embarrassing sound, desperate attempt to speak and every single moment I would happily erase from existence.

Oh, shit.

"Clara," I whispered, staring at myself in the mirror. "How much did you hear?"

For several seconds, she said nothing. Then she cleared her throat and told me "your wig probably needed fixing."

I closed my eyes. Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. My best friend had just listened to me make a complete fool of myself with my former stepfather, and she was pretending we were discussing hair accessories.

"Please don't tell Mara." I tried to sound threatening, but it came out more like a dying mosquito.

"I won't tell anybody, Maya. Now fix your dress before that man leaves you behind." Her voice had changed, losing the awkwardness almost immediately. "And listen carefully. Lorenzo increased security tonight. There are additional guards near the vehicle checkpoint, so don't start celebrating until you're outside the estate."

I wanted to ask why she hadn't warned me that the receiver was still active, but honestly, what would she have said? Excuse me, Maya, before you embarrass yourself any further, your best friend is listening?

God... I might have died on the spot.

I secured the neckline with three pins, adjusted my wig and pulled a thin black wrap from my bag over my shoulders. The dress still looked terrible, but at least I wasn't exposing myself to the entire Rossi family.

Taking a deep breath, we'll deal with this... One disaster at a time.

When I hurried into the corridor, Ace was already walking away. Two enormous guards followed him, and I had to half-run to catch up, nearly twisting my ankle in the stupid heels. He stopped long enough to look at me, his eyes dropping briefly to my uneven neckline before returning to my face.

"You're slow."

I opened my mouth, ready to remind him whose fault my dress was, but decided against it. My continued survival was more important than winning an argument.

Outside the lounge, Ace turned to one of his guards. "Find whoever is managing the entertainers. Pay whatever they're owed and tell them this woman is leaving with me. I don't want anyone coming after us over a fucking performer."

The guard nodded and took out his phone, then looked toward me. "Your name, miss?"

For one horrible second, I almost answered Maya. The name was already sitting on my tongue before I remembered that saying it could destroy everything we'd planned. I swallowed and forced myself to meet his eyes.

"Elena Ward."

He checked his phone while I stood there trying not to look like a criminal waiting for sentencing. What if Clara had entered the wrong information? What if someone had already changed the staff records? What if the real Elena Ward suddenly appeared and demanded to know why I was stealing her identity?

"Evening performance team," the guard confirmed after a moment. "She's registered."

My lungs finally remembered how to work.

Ace barely reacted. "Handle it."

And just like that, my escape became a matter of settling payment. Apparently, when normal people wanted to leave a party, they needed permission. When Ace Morello wanted to take someone, he paid the bill and expected everyone to mind their business.

I couldn't decide whether that was impressive or terrifying, well, right now, probably both.

We approached the main ballroom, and I could already hear the music spilling into the corridor. Ace caught my wrist when I slowed, pulling me forward with enough force that I nearly collided with him. Before I could complain, his hand shifted to my waist, holding me firmly against his side.

My face heated, oh Lord not again.

Worse, Clara was still listening, and the memory of what she'd overheard made me want to crawl into a hole and stay there until everyone forgot I existed. I tried putting a little distance between us, but Ace tightened his hold without even looking down.

"Stay close. I'm not coming back to look for you."

I stopped struggling. The last thing I needed was to get separated from him while surrounded by Rossi guards, especially when my entire disguise depended on nobody looking too closely. I kept my head lowered as we entered the ballroom, although I couldn't resist glancing around.

The celebration was still going strong. Guests laughed over expensive drinks, waiters moved between tables, and a group of men near the bar were discussing something with the seriousness usually reserved for international disasters. Probably money, territory or somebody's unfortunate death. With the Rossi family, those were practically the only acceptable conversation topics.

Ace didn't stop to greet anyone. He walked straight through the crowd, his guards moving around us, and people began stepping aside almost immediately. One man stopped talking halfway through a sentence when he recognized him. Two women moved out of our path, and even the Rossi guards seemed uncertain whether they should interfere.

I watched the reactions with growing disbelief. These were men who could threaten ordinary people without blinking, yet one look at Ace Morello and suddenly everyone remembered how to behave.

I wished I'd brought popcorn.

Then I remembered Mara.

My eyes immediately searched the raised seating area where Lorenzo had arranged his precious little family display. For several seconds, I couldn't find her through the moving guests, and panic began crawling up my throat. Had something happened? Had somebody noticed the disguise? Had Lorenzo already discovered the truth?

Then I spotted the emerald gown.

Mara was still sitting in my place, wearing the black lace mask and the wig we'd carefully prepared. Her back was straight, hands resting politely on her lap, and from a distance, she looked exactly like the obedient little bride Lorenzo wanted.

Poor girl.

She looked like someone attending her own funeral while trying not to offend the guests.

The chair beside her was empty, which meant the mysterious groom had temporarily disappeared. Thank goodness. I still had no idea who Lorenzo intended to marry me off to because the bastard had been wearing a mask earlier too.

Honestly, that family was full of terrible men. Some were arrogant, some were violent, and some smiled beautifully while ruining people's lives. Luca belonged to the last category, and look how wonderfully that turned out. Four years of my life wasted on a man who couldn't keep his trousers on around my own sister.

"Maya, can you see Mara?" Clara whispered.

"She's there," I murmured, pretending to adjust my wrap. "The groom's gone somewhere."

"Good. Don't look at her for too long. Once you're out, she'll start the second part."

I knew the plan. Mara would pretend to feel unwell, return upstairs and remove the disguise inside my bedroom. Then she'd slip through the maintenance compartment and reunite with Clara before anyone realized the woman sitting at the celebration hadn't been me.

After that, they'd blend into the remaining staff and wait for the chaos.

It sounded simple when we'd planned it.

Most stupid things did.

I wanted to run over and hug her, tell her she was doing wonderfully, that I was almost out, and that she needed to be careful because Lorenzo wouldn't hesitate to hurt her if he discovered what we'd done.

But I couldn't even wave.

Mara suddenly turned toward us, and for one brief moment, I thought she recognized me. My fingers twitched at my side, desperate to give her some tiny signal.

Ace's grip tightened.

"Eyes forward."

I immediately looked away, biting the inside of my cheek. I knew he wasn't aware of what was happening, but did he have to be so annoyingly observant?

I glanced back once more when we reached the last row of tables. Mara was still sitting there safely, and I forced myself to keep walking. Seeing her alive would have to be enough for now.

The ballroom doors opened ahead of us, and cool night air rushed against my face. Beyond the entrance, several black vehicles waited beneath the driveway lights, their windows dark enough that I couldn't see inside.

Cars.

Actual cars that could take me away from this miserable mansion.

My chest tightened so painfully that I almost cried.

We descended the steps, and I noticed several Rossi guards standing near the driveway. One of them had a scar through his eyebrow, and I recognized him immediately. He worked near Lorenzo's private wing.

He looked directly at me and my stomach dropped.

What if he recognized my height? My walk? The stupid way I kept touching my mask whenever I got nervous?

I lowered my head, but the guard stepped forward.

"Don Morello."

Ace didn't slow down. "Move."

For one terrible second, the man hesitated. His eyes shifted toward me, then toward the Morello guards surrounding us. I could practically hear my heartbeat as I imagined him asking questions, demanding to see my face or calling Lorenzo.

Then he stepped aside and I nearly sagged with relief.

"You're shaking," Ace muttered as we passed him.

"These heels are uncomfortable."

He glanced down. "Then you should have worn better ones."

I stared at him.

Yes, Ace. Wonderful advice. Next time I escape a forced marriage, I'll remember to pack sensible footwear.

We reached the first vehicle, and one of his guards opened the rear door. Ace released my waist and turned slightly, preparing to guide me inside.

I stared at the dark leather seats.. one more step, that was all I needed and for the first time tonight, I genuinely believed I might escape but then a woman's voice cut through the driveway.

"ACE MORELLO!"

I froze.

Every bit of warmth drained from my body as I recognized that voice.

No.

Please, no.

That's... that's Miranda.. my mother.