The party can be described in a single word...lavish.
There aren't only musicians or an orchestra but the whole shadoodle of people singing and dancing. Men and women were dressed in colorful kimonos, frolicking around the stage. My eyes narrow, attempting to see their white-painted faces.
Drew pinches my waist, warning me to gather my composure and not forget our primary mission. "I will meet you in the front in an hour. Do not leave the room by yourself under any circumstances."
Of course, I understand the danger of a woman lingering around alone, so I gave him a firm nod.
"You still have it, right?"
With much discomfort, I shift my right leg, feeling the holster strapping against my thighs. Drew told me to take it earlier and to use it if I'm in danger. "Yeah."
"Don't talk to anyone," he sounds like my fathers.
I gave him a side glance. "Anything else? Father?"
Drew huffs a breath, pressing his finger against my temple. "You got the beeper, right?"
I held back the urge to grunt. "Yes." Drew forced me to attach an emergency beeper to my bra. With a simple press of a breast, he can know my location. The design is odd but effective.
I need to have a long talk with the creator, though.
"I saw that eye roll," he hisses slowly before walking through the crowd.
Left with my boob beeper and gun, I feel invincible. I enter the scene one step after another, attempting not to look too suspicious. When I found an empty seat beside the bar, I settled down, noticing the various expensive liquors behind it. With Anthony's exquisite taste, I can name some of the most extravagant alcohol in the world.
The guests were enjoying themselves, nothing out of the ordinary. There was flirting and dancing, similar to every other gathering. I didn't understand why Anthony would be here.
I turn down the wine that caters to me but accept a water bottle. You never know when your drinks may be tampered with, and I am in no mood to be tampered by. I won't even accept the food despite wanting to consume it.
I don't want to chew on my perfectly painted nails or redden lips, so I find myself gnawing on the inside of my cheek. Soon, the taste of blood filled my mouth, and I smacked my lip lightly. "Ew." I huff underneath my breath before taking another swish of water from the bottle on my lap.
"Konbanwa," a deep voice said from behind, causing me to flinch. Steadily, I turn back, seeing a young Japanese man approaching me.
He's a tall fellow, lean, with slick dark hair. His grey eyes and a red dragon wrapped around his neck catch my attention the most.
A man with a dragon is never a good sign.
His nose is flat, accompanied by high cheekbones. The tan face was seemingly bored, but humor struck his mouth. He settles in front of me, still in a confident manner. With a closer examination, I noticed how faint wrinkles lurked all over, indicating that he may not be as young as I suspected or he had been living a stressful life.
"If you stare any longer. I would believe you want to bed me," his eyes met mine. Steadily, I turn to the side to ensure he isn't talking to anyone else.
He smiled, but it didn't seem genuine. "Although you're a foreigner to this country. I would advise you that it is rude to ignore someone."
A smile flashes across my face from beneath the curl of hair. I want to stand up and walk away.
