Bad Boy by Night

♱ Chapter 05 ♱

𝓐𝓭𝓮𝓵𝓪𝓲𝓭𝓮
𝟶𝟻: 𝙰 𝙿𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚝'𝚜 𝙵𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝙰𝚕𝚒𝚋𝚒

My phone vibrated in my pocket during dinner.

Five times.

And that was akin to sacrilegious to my mom.

"Adelaide, please silence your phone," she scolded, spooning a perfect clump of mash potato. She glanced at my dad for confirmation or assistance with her reprimand, but upon verifying that Dad was far too focused in a discussion with Cory to notice the trilling of my phone, she turned back to me. "We have some news to share with you and Cory."

Cory's head snapped around to meet Mom's tantalised gaze just as my phone vibrated for a fifth time. Mom glowered at me momentarily and I knew her patience was wearing thin for our strict no-phone policy at the table which disabled me from yanking my phone out and checking both the messages and the sender. Dad was silenced, sensing that his discussion with Cory had terminated short because Mom was ready to announce something that she was evidently struggling to keep caged inside her.

"In a month's time, roughly, the town's hosting a gala—a ball—for more prestigious inhabitants of this town. And we have been invited, despite what transpired last year. That means, Cory, you will need to ensure your tux fits and Adelaide, you will require a gown." Mom's cheeks were reddening, and her sheer excitement was radiating off her, but there was a barrier in front of me and blocking her elation from passing onto me. "It's promised to be better than the previous year."

The only reason we were invited to these galas that were hosted annually was because Dad had his hotshot lawyer status and Mom was a "miracle doctor", though people loved her so much because of her compassion with patients and their families, always ensuring she went the extra mile with them. She couldn't perform miracles, of course, but she tried her damn hardest to attain the closest to one she could.

Cory shrunk in his seat, the memories of the previous year resurfacing in his mind. "Do I have to?" he whined, sounding less like the twenty-three-year-old he was and more like a seven-year-old who was about to throw a tantrum.

"Of course, and we will not have a repeat of last year, thank you very much," Mom chimed, pointing her fork at a guilty Cory.

Last year, Cory decided it would be great to become buzzed off the free champagne they supplied and found himself in a small room with a woman almost twice his age—she was thankfully single otherwise that would have been utter shambles—and someone happened to open the door on them. The news traversed quickly throughout the occupants of the gala as it was mainly in a grand ballroom considering it was raining outside and everyone took shelter inside and neglected the beautiful fairy lights and spotlights adorning the balcony area, water fountain and extravagant garden. It reminded me of the gazebo we had in our garden, and I tried and spend as much time as I could in the garden during the galas. It was more peaceful outside.

There was no other mention of the gala during dinner, and Cory and Dad went back to their discussion. My phone refused to vibrate again but as soon as I cleared my plate away in the kitchen, I hastily whipped out my phone. One text was from Bridget pertaining a recent news article, another message was from NAMELESS, and the rest originated from Porter.

My stomach dropped as I perused each message quickly, unable to slow both my reading and heartbeat as trepidation was beginning to spice my veins.

Bridget: Have you seen this?

Tick tock goes the clock. –NAMELESS

Porter: Have you seen the recent news of Samuel Bennett?