Velora
Her dress was a weapon.
And tonight, she was ready to unleash it. Not to hurt, but to charm and sweep people off their feet. Sweep 'him' off his feet.
Her penthouse had turned into a glam zone. Makeup artists swam around her, with their brushes dancing across her flawless skin, highlighting the sharp angles of her cheek bones and her eyes standing out. The hair stylist styled her bob hair into a sophisticated updo, allowing a few strands to fall, framing her face.
Velora sat pretty and calm in the midst of the chaos, staring at her reflection, her brain already playing out how the night would go. She mentally mapped the ballroom like it was some military operation, practicing her lines and movement. Jean-Pierre, her target, was a man of habit, according to Greco. He would likely be holding court near the VIP area, surrounded by a number of sycophants and admirers. Getting close wouldn't be the challenge; getting him alone would be. That would require some finesse.
The dress was a floor-length emerald green that shimmered under the lights and complemented her skin tone. It clung to her like a second skin and the deep v-neck showed just enough to get the attention she wanted but not revealing much. A daring slit at the corner of the dress whispered danged. It was the kind of dress that made a statement and screamed 'expensive'. Just the right weapon for tonight's mission.
As the final touches were added, her mind drifted back to the pen. The ordinary, yet significant black pen. "Hope and Harmony Foundation". The same name that sat on the screen of her laptop, confirming the gala's location. It was too intentional to be a coincidence. The ghost man was playing a game, a game she had no choice but to participate in. A dry smile graced her lips. Two could play the game.
Stepping into her stilettos, Veloea took one last glance at the mirror. She was satisfied with the woman that stared back at her, she was a combination of elegance, class and sophistication. A predator with charms.
The large ballroom buzzed with energy. A blend of different lights and clinking glasses here and there. The air was filled with the scent of expensive colognes. She moved through the room with a champagne flute, half filled, in her hand, her senses on high alert, her eyes scanned the room. Jean-Pierre was easy enough to spot. Receding hairline, stout body and an air of self-importance that radiated off him. He was holding court exactly where the Intel had predicted, a small number of admirers laughing at every word that came out of his mouth. Typical.
But her attention wasn't really on him, it was on someone else. Her eyes scanned the room hoping to see him. He was a ghost but he was definitely going to be in the hall. She made her way to the VIP section, executing her plan with ease, a perfectly timed "accidental" bump and suddenly she was face-to-face with Jean-Pierre.
"Oh, excuse me!" She said in a high and feminine pitch, feigning surprise. Her hand instinctively reached out to his arm. "I'm so terribly sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going, silly me."
Jean-Pierre was startled for a second but recovered quickly. He took in her appearance, his eyes brightened in appreciation. A smug smirk appeared on his face. "No harm done dear. The contrary in fact." His gaze lingered a little too long on her neckline. Predictable.
"Velora." She said, extending her perfectly manicured hand. "Velora Alvaro."
"Jean-Pierre Dubois" He replied, taking her hand and holding it a little longer than necessary. "It's a pleasure, mademoiselle. Though, I must say, an introduction this…intimate…is far more memorable than the usual polite formalities." He chuckled while speaking.
Velora let out a light hearty laugh, drawing the attention of those around them. "Indeed, Monsieur Dubois. Perhaps, fate has a particular sense of humor." She tilted her head before smoothing the bracelet around her wrist. "I hope I haven't interrupted anything important."
"Nonsense, my dear. Merely discussing…important matters." He said, gesturing to the sycophants who were now watching them with curiosity. "But I dare say this unexpected encounter has become the most important matter of this evening."
For the next few minutes, Velora was able to charm Jean-Pierre with ease, her conversation ranging between lighthearted banter and inquiries about his business, as though she cared. He was captivated, both by her beauty and her wit. As the conversation came to an end, he spoke, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"I find our conversation…intriguing and stimulating. Perhaps we could continue this in a more private setting?"
Velora let out a victorious smile. "Monsieur Dubois, you certainly know how to make a woman feel appreciated." She paused. "I do have a rather demanding schedule but perhaps we could find time." Her hand reached into her clutch and she brought out her complementary card. "Call me" she said with a wink.
Mission accomplished. He was hooked, as expected and a second meeting had been set. Now, it was time to find her ghost.
She slipped away from Jean-Pierre's presence with a polite excuse, weaving her way back through the crowded ballroom. Her eyes scanned the room over and over again. . And then she saw him, standing near a pillar, a glass of something amber swirling in his hand. Her breath hitched.
He looked exactly as she remembered. Dressed in a dark suit, his cold gaze sharp. She made her way towards him, swaying her hips with all manner of confidence. As she approached him, his smirk widened, like he had been expecting her.
"I knew you'd come." He said in a low smooth voice. Velora stopped a few feet away, her expression composed.
"I didn't come for you."
"I know. You came on an assignment. But you would have come without the assignment, wouldn't you, Louisa?" The casual tone in his voice dropped, the forbidden name hanging in the air between them. "Nice job on Marcello by the way." He added, causing her breath to hitch.
Velora's composure wavered for a second. "Who are you?" She demanded in a low but stern tone. He pushed himself off the pillar, moving closer.
"Haynes. Just Haynes." He extended a hand towards her.
Velora hesitated for a moment before reluctantly taking it. His grip was firm and his hand surprisingly warm and smooth. She tried her usual tricks, giving him her seductive look, batting her lashes, everything that made men do what she wanted. She even let her hand linger in his longer than necessary, but still, nothing. He didn't even blink. It seemed like she was trying to charm a statue.
His dark intense gaze remained on her, making her stomach twist in knots. It was as if he could see straight through her. It was a feeling she hadn't experienced in a long time, and it made her skin crawl.
"Haynes." She repeated, letting the name roll off her lips. "What do you want?"
His smirk widened a bit. "I told you the other night. I've always wondered what it feels like to be studied by someone who decides who deserves to live or die." He paused. "And now I know who you are, Louisa." He leaned in slightly, his voice a low whisper that sent a shiver down her spine.
"The Black Widow."