I hesitated only for a second before taking the ring. It was heavier than I expected. Slipping it onto my finger felt both foreign and natural, as if sealing a pact with the devil himself.
Hector’s jaw tightened slightly as he watched me. “Stay close to me tonight. If anything feels off, if you sense anything wrong, look for me.”
“I will.”
His eyes darkened. “We can’t afford mistakes, Alicia.”
I flinched at the name. It had been so long since I heard it that it almost sounded foreign. But I steeled myself, meeting his gaze.
“I won’t fail. And, please, practice calling me Frankie or Cheska now.”
Satisfied, he extended his arm. “Alright, I will. Let’s go.”
Tonight’s exhibit had a masquerade theme. It was the perfect way to shield my identity for just a little longer. My face was hidden beneath a delicate mask, my gown flowing elegantly as we arrived at the venue. The gallery was filled with the city’s elite, including the very people who had stolen everything from me.
The Russos. The De Santis.