Finding the private Suite

Aria.

The party was in full swing, and I found myself struggling to maintain my composure in those godforsaken heels. It felt like an eternity as I wobbled and teetered, drawing the ire of my fellow servers. One particularly mean-spirited woman smirked as she watched me falter.

"Careful, darling," she taunted, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "Wouldn't want to spill anything on these expensive carpets."

I gritted my teeth, refusing to let her mockery derail me. I had a mission to complete, and I couldn't afford any distractions. With renewed determination, I straightened my back, held my head high, and continued dealing with the challenges before me.

As I carried a tray of champagne glasses, I wound through the sea of elegantly dressed partygoers. Men in tailored suits and women in luxurious gowns mingled, their laughter and conversation filling the air. In the dimly lit corners of the room, I caught glimpses of couples exchanging passionate kisses and embraces, seemingly oblivious to the world around them.

My eyes scanned the room, searching for the man I'd slipped the microchips to earlier. The opulence and decadence of the party were distracting, but I knew I had to stay focused on my mission. Suddenly, I spotted him across the room, engaged in conversation with a stunning woman in a red dress. His eyes met mine for a brief moment, and I felt my heart race. I needed to get those microchips back, but I couldn't afford to draw attention to myself.

Taking a deep breath, I approached with a practiced smile. "Drinks, sir?" I asked, extending the tray toward him. He glanced at the tray, then back to the woman he'd been talking to, and finally nodded.

"Yes, thank you," he said, taking a glass. Our eyes locked for a moment, and my breath snagged in my throat, my cheeks flushing for a reason I couldn't quite understand. As he turned back to his conversation, I heard the woman teasing him.

"Nikolai darling, you have a thing for the help?"

He laughed, the sound rich and warm. "Not at all. Just appreciating good service."

Cunt.

I circled Nikolai like a vulture, plastering a wide-eyed, innocent grin on my face. I was about as innocent as a fox in a henhouse, but they didn't need to know that. The woman glowering next to him didn't look thrilled by my presence. Perfect.

"Sir," I started, my voice syrupy sweet. I gestured to my tray, filled to the brim with champagne glasses. "Would you mind helping me?"

His eyebrow hiked up, intrigued. Or maybe confused. Didn't matter. His attention was on me, and that was all I needed.

"Well, it's just that I can't decide..." I trailed off, pretending to fumble with the tray. The glasses wobbled precariously, and before I could stop it, one tumbled off, spilling champagne all over the designer dress of the woman next to Nikolai.

"Oh no!" I gasped, playing up the innocent act. She looked like she wanted to strangle me, but Nikolai was already moving to help her. Bingo.

As he was distracted, I darted my hand into his pocket, feeling the cold metal of the bobby pins against my fingertips. Got them. I pulled my hand back just as Nikolai turned back around, his scowl enough to make me want to run for the hills.

"Right," I mumbled, taking a step back. "I should really get back to work. So sorry about the dress, ma'am." And with that, I bolted, leaving the scowling woman and the equally annoyed Nikolai behind.

Mission accomplished. Aria - one. Mafia - zero.

As I slithered through the godforsaken room, I could sense Dmitri's steely eyes piercing into my back. I was left with a bewildering concoction of adrenaline and intrigue rushing through me. But my fingertips were tingling, and I had a feeling it had nothing to do with the nerves I was fighting. I got the chips, though, and that was what mattered.

Thank goodness!

My heart raced as I moved back through the crowded room, trying to keep my cool while internally freaking out. I mean, seriously, who would've thought I'd end up playing spy and planting devices in a mafia boss's mansion? I was definitely no James Bond.

Holding the tray awkwardly in one hand yet again, I quickly secured the bobby pins back into my hair, each one hiding a tiny spy device. One step closer to planting the damn things, yet I had no clue where the hell Axel's room was. It was like searching for a needle in a haystack the size of Texas.

Struggling to maintain my balance, I felt a pang of envy as I watched the other women in the room glide effortlessly in heels even taller than my own. The contrast between their grace and my own clumsy movements only added to the mounting pressure I felt.

How do they do it?

I wobbled slightly, steadying myself against a nearby table. I'd never been one for fancy footwear, and right then, I'd have given anything for a pair of comfortable sneakers. But I couldn't afford to let my discomfort show – not with so much on the line.

As I regained my composure, I caught sight of the catering manager heading my way, her eagle eyes scanning the room. Panic surged through me. If she caught me slacking off, my cover could be blown. I quickly grabbed a fresh tray of drinks and plastered on my best fake smile.

"There you are!" she barked as she approached. "I need you to take these hors d'oeuvres to the VIP section. And for heaven's sake, girl, walk like you've got some grace. You're representing us out there!"

I nodded, swapping my tray for the one she thrust at me. "Yes, ma'am. Right away."

As I made my way towards the VIP section, my mind raced. The VIP section – that had to be close to where Axel's private rooms were, right? This could be my chance to get closer to my target.

But as I approached the velvet rope separating the VIP area from the rest of the party, a burly security guard stepped in my path.

"Where do you think you're going?" he growled, eyeing me suspiciously.

I held up the tray. "Hors d'oeuvres for the VIP section, sir."

He grunted, giving me a once-over that made my skin crawl. After what felt like an eternity, he stepped aside. "Make it quick."

I slipped past him, my heart pounding. I was in. Now I just needed to find a way to scope out the area without arousing suspicion.

As I circulated through the VIP section, offering food to the guests, I kept my eyes and ears open. Snippets of conversation floated around me – business deals, political maneuvers, and salacious gossip. But nothing about Axel or the layout of the mansion.

Just as I was about to give up hope, I overheard a drunken guest loudly complaining to his companion.

"Can you believe it? I asked to use the restroom, and they directed me to the one down in the main hall. As if I'm some common party guest! I know for a fact that Axel's private suite is just up those stairs, and it's got its own bathroom. The nerve!"

Bingo. I filed away that information, my pulse quickening. I had a location. Now I just needed to figure out how to get up those stairs without being noticed.

***