Chapter 1
Might turn it into a novella, might stay a short story. Either way, here’s an excerpt. As usual, first draft with no edits.
Judith Nicolescu knew the risks when she chose to take this mission, but she was only focused on the prize to be won. This hunt would make her career. It would get her a promotion, but she could take early retirement with the cash reward alone. And the bragging rights? The ass-kissing people would do knowing that she was the only one capable of completing a mission dozens of others had failed? It was the most alluring part of it all.
She had thought of the different women that had been seen draped over Benedict Thorne’s arm when carefully painting her face with the smoldering eyes and black cherry lips he seemed to like. She had thought of the deep jewel tones and dark gray of the suits that he always wore when selecting her outfit for the gala, a crimson sheath dress with an overlay of delicate black lace. She had envisioned the bright platinum of the simple jewelry he favored when hooking the thick silver hoops through her ears and sliding delicate stacked bands of white-gold over her fingers. Standing before the full length mirror in her hotel room, she took in the gentle slopes of her figure while brushing the non-existent wrinkles from her dress and turning in place, inspecting herself from every angle.
“There’s no ignoring me tonight,” Judith said to her reflection, a smile curling her darkly stained lips.
She slid into a pair of black patent stilettos and grabbed the small handbag hanging by the door before exiting the room. The soft sound of her heels against the carpet echoed faintly through the hallway. Judith kept her eyes trained forward, her chin held high, and focused on slowing her breathing until the rapid beat in her chest slowed to match.
The elevator took her to the main floor, where the distant harmonies of the live quartet twinkled through the air the minute the doors opened. Her steps were careful and calculated as she stepped onto the slick marble lobby tiles. There was a confidence in her walk, in the way she held herself, to where no one would question whether she belonged amid all the high profile names and the faces of society’s most beloved that surrounded her. The closer she got to the ballroom, her confidence became more authentic. At a certain point, security stopped scanning her face to try and place her. She had walked these halls in the days before, had learned the layout of the hotel, and planned routes for every situation she could imagine.
The ballroom doors opened to reveal a massive, glittering space. Tables covered in pressed white linens and mountainous centerpieces of pale flowers with rich greenery lined half of the room, leaving narrow aisles to the riser stage against the back wall. The quartet played in a corner for an empty expanse of wide open floor, the rising melodies and gentle harmonies of their instruments a beautiful backdrop behind the casual conversations happening around the room. Judith exchanged pleasantries with the woman standing just inside the ballroom before pulling a press pass from her handbag, flashing the laminated badge before tucking it away. The woman didn’t question her, only pointing toward a group of tables farthest from the stage and wishing her a pleasant evening.
From her seat at one of the back tables, Judith’s smoky gaze stalked the room behind a slowly emptying flute of champagne. The seats around her filled long before the other tables, surrounding her with the screeching of vultures circling for a morsel of a story. Eventually, once the room was full of life and echoing with the dull roar of too many conversations, Judith found her prey. Benedict drew more eyes than just hers, as she had expected he would. He dripped luxury at its finest. His suit appeared modest at first glance, but the clean lines that had been tailor-fit to his physique, the glint of bright platinum jewelry circling his fingers and wrists in light, the depth of the sapphires on his cufflinks reflecting an ocean with his every move, all those pieces culminated to craft an elegance that others in the room could merely dream of.
Judith set down her champagne flute before excusing herself from the table. She needed a closer look at him and the small entourage that followed in his wake. Find the weak point. Infiltrate the defense. Use any means necessary. Her directive had been crystal clear, as it had been for the dozens of others that had been sent to claim this reward before her. Her nerves began to falter as she drew nearer, as multiple sets of bloodshot eyes trained in on her, as a hand came to rest on Benedict’s shoulder before he was told whispered words that caused a visible clench in his jaw.
Swallowing her nerves, Judith shoved her mask of confidence back into place and smiled at a stranger just past her prey. She raised her hand, moving her neatly manicured fingers in a graceful wave, and sidestepped to bypass the entourage. With her chin held high as she walked by, Judith rolled back her shoulders until the silky sheet of her hair slipped down her back. The movement had caught his attention, and she felt his pressured gaze bore into her as she glided past.
With Benedict at her back, Judith casually interjected herself into a small circle of fashionable men and women discussing the upcoming fall/winter collections from a designer whose name she only vaguely recognized. She didn’t pay attention to the details of their discussion or her own responses, but rather kept an ear trained on the quiet discussion behind her. Sorting and cataloging the mundane tidbits she overheard, Judith filed away any details that would make her seem more a part of his world as her mouth operated on auto-pilot. In the twenty minutes before the standing groups were gently ushered back to their tables, she had learned of an exclusive after party that had not been mentioned in any debriefing and received an invite to sit with a couple of the women from the group that had become quickly become her plan B.
As Judith followed the women to their table, just a row back from the riser stage where a small group had begun to gather, she scanned the others already seated and sipping from glasses of wine. She felt out of place amongst the slim goddesses with their couture gowns and barely there makeup, but she sat with them despite it. She recognized a couple of the women from magazine spreads but, as she was introduced to the table, Judith did not retain a single woman’s name. She was mulling over the details of Benedict’s conversation and doing a thorough mental review of her debriefing as the introductions ended and the host approached the microphone in the middle of the stage.
It felt like hours that the host droned on about what amazing things would be done with the contributions of the donors in the crowd and about all the impressive feats that had been accomplished in the last year. Finally the host asked Judith’s prey to the stage, and free of his entourage, he commanded every eye in the room. Judith felt his eyes hover over her as he scanned the room, and flicked her gaze to his for the briefest moment before he began to speak. The tension in his jaw as he smoothed the front of his dinner jacket did not escape her.
“Thank you, Miriam,” his voice filled the quiet room, holding the attention of everyone sat before him, “I would echo all her sentiments again, but in the essence of time, I’ll just give my sincerest gratitude. During my time with The Voltexa Foundation, we have fostered unprecedented growth, and all of that is due to the unwavering trust of our stakeholders and the generous contributions from all of you. After dinner, you are all invited to peruse the offerings of our silent auction across the hall in the Jefferson Ballroom. There will also be a cocktail hour here in the Montgomery Ballroom during the auction. Once again, thank you all for being here with us tonight.”
Judith watched as Benedict descended the stage and trailed down the aisles between the dozens of tables before he disappeared into the crowd. Her attention was drawn back to the company of her own table as the first of many courses was brought out and laid in front of everyone. She wanted to excuse herself, to run back to the tactical advantage offered by the group of vultures at the back of the room, but the visibility offered by sitting amongst her plan B had too much untapped potential to advance her plans.
Picking at the salad laid before her, Judith scanned her table with a smile that shone with feigned interest. She briefly made eye contact with those who spoke, laughed when the others laughed, slowly sipped her wine to fill the lulls where the conversation got too serious. Her ears were trained on finding the rich timbre of Benedict’s voice. Her eyes scanned the crowd behind each smiling face that was seated around her, waiting to see a hint of red-rimmed eyes flash toward her. She continued her discreet scan through the next three courses, and as a trays piled high with bite-sized desserts were placed around the tables, Judith caught sight of something much sweeter than the sugary confections laid before her. Across the ballroom, rising above the glamorous sea of influential people between them, stood Benedict as he shook hands with an older man before slowly making his way back to the riser stage.
Judith’s eyes followed Benedict, her smoky glaze unblinking as she watched his smooth movement toward the microphone stand. A rush of adrenaline flooded her as she imagined completing her mission, the goal so close at hand she could feel the air crackling with tension around her.
“Hello again, distinguished guests. I hope the meal exceeded everyone’s expectations. The curator has just informed me that the silent auction will be opening in 15 minutes. I encourage you all to peruse the aisles prior to first bids or to enjoy the cocktail hour and live entertainment. Thank you again for spending your evening with us to celebrate the Voltexa Foundation’s accomplishments this past year and to toast to our future endeavors.”
A gentle round of applause filled the room before the sound of scraping chairs and dozens of hushed conversations filled the air. But Judith remained entranced, gazing at her pray as he leaned forward to speak to someone just off stage. Her mind raced with action steps she could take, with potential outcomes to each step, with a statistical analysis of each option’s success rate given every possible risk she could conceive. The table around her began to empty, save for one of the slender goddesses to her left.
Long, delicate fingers rested on Judith’s shoulder and she looked to the woman whose name she couldn’t remember, Benedict’s frigid countenance replaced with the warm complexion and deep eyes of the model at her side. “Should we go get drinks? The rest of them went to check out the auction.”
“Sure, thank you.” Judith stood from the table and turned to follow the model toward the bar at the back of the room. Her neck bristled as she felt eyes on her, and she was met with a red-rimmed gaze from across the ballroom as she glanced over her shoulder. Her smoky eyes narrowed, her dark lips curling at the corner, before she returned her attention to the model a few steps in front of her. Once they stood at the bar, Judith continued to feel Benedict’s eyes on her, but she did not give him another glance. For any of her plans to work, he would need to approach her of his own volition and free of his entourage.
“Port Manhattan, please.”
A couple minutes later, with their drinks in hand, Judith followed the model back to their table. The slender goddess had begun talking about something, her story trying in equal parts to impress and to search for common ground, and Judith did her part in laughing when it was expected, in exclaiming awe when it was anticipated, and offering a gentle touch to the other woman’s arm when the tale should have been riveting and keeping her on the edge of her seat.
The cocktail hour passed slowly, with new faces wandering in and out of the conversation, with too many refills of her Port Manhattan, and with no Benedict. Judith had scoured the room to search for him, but to no avail. She had excused herself to the silent auction, had walked amongst the aisles and feigned interest in the assorted memorabilia, all-inclusive trips, and “once in a lifetime” types of experiences. But Judith didn’t want to meet athletes, dine at the finest restaurants the city had to offer, or travel to tropical locations and be treated like a queen. Judith only wanted to complete her mission, to be the first and only in a long line of hunters to succeed in taking down Benedict Thorne, to make it through this cursed assignment unscathed and to live another day.
In the final moments of the auction, the ballroom was bustling with all the important people who were over-eager to spend far too much money on the offerings before them. Judith slipped through the crowd, weaving between warm and cold bodies alike. She’d held her breath until leaving the ballroom, the first deep inhale in the hallway like the first breath after drowning. She shook the growing anxiety from herself and threw back the rest of her drink, the warming burn of the whiskey settling the worst of her nerves. The confidence she’d bolstered earlier in the night had faded, and the taste of failure soured her stomach. She ran through her debriefing for the countless time that night, combed through the details of Benedict’s routine and the past experiences of other Hunters who had had the foresight to quit before falling victim to his wiles. The end of the night was the pinch point, where the countless plans were narrowed to a simple choice she had no control over. Either he would approach her, or he wouldn’t.
