Scion **** Chapter One Hundred Twenty

The archaic mood was more or less pretentious, I'd been surrounded by people who were at least twice my age, nevertheless they signified money, if with only their presences and exquisite linen. Their occupancy gave the grandois guest house a more acute ambiance; the dignified hall would have been extraneous without their pompous commodities I'd concluded before grinning to myself, shortcoming of their formalities they wouldn't be shit. Apathetically I'd shown no engrossment for the leisured mise en scene.

I studied them all, one by one paying attention to the ones who studied me. Tenebrous and uncanny the woman came mistakenly and had enjoyed plenty of the complimentary wine, but sat in err and had been unable to stand, poorly she tried to reform and modify her unimpressive intemperance with her drunk ass. She'd asked at an obnoxious high pitched tone, "Am I at the wrong table?" before laughing in a self conscious manner. She unsuccessfully pinched at the blonde strands of hair that laid across her bottom lip while trying to gain composure to stand. "Gotta run! Nice meeting u!" She said attempting to drown out Bing Crosby.

I regarded the taut, partially unzipped gown as she stood from the bedecked chair and balanced her stance. I winced at the roasted pig that sat in the center of the serving table lifelessly mouthing an apple. The eyes were heavy upon me, almost tangible.

While adrift, I'd been approached and asked what charity I supported, I was taken aback by the inquiry from the gentleman who'd watched me moments before, I'd noticed the Rockefeller Foundation wreath and said I supported the cause. The words freckle and cello ascended from the ribbon. Raphael's Triumph of Galatea was mounted on the wall transverse from where I'd sat alone prior to his company, he'd given it a somewhat idyllic quality while standing betwixt me and the painting. The stringed instrument strummed Desolation while he comfortably spoke, "Peradventure the function is befitting---are u accompanied?"

I noticed his disciplined posture and code, his conduct was not modern but all the more so uncustomary; even the tuxedo he'd worn appeared vintaged---new but venerable. I'd told him I was a guest of the McNamara's, he smiled at the mention of their name. His well manicured nails were not of normal length as a man's would be, but at an attempt to profile his sexual orientation he offered to join me and complimented my beauty.

Denard Pyle entered into the ballroom wearing a snake print velvet formal jacket, its deep purple tone emphasized its worth, he'd opened it while entering through the door before handing the host his coat with his wife on his arm. Her condition seemed lethargic, I'd imagined why. How could the elite be so wicked? Was there possibly any way around it? No salvation for the rich.

Was it unethical to want the finer things? The disambiguous found tranquility in their own uncertainties, I considered it leeway and had witnessed firsthand. Nathaniel texted, Martin was being held on conspiracy charges, he promised to provide more detail the next morning during our meeting. I wanted to trust him as he wanted me to, but wasn't it too late?

With expectations to see Procell I'd looked around the room tempted to ask the gentleman if he'd seen him arrive. I studied the freckled face man his red hair indicated he was of creole descent, I derived from the timepiece he'd worn he wasn't ordinary. The Patek Philippe Perpetual Chronograph had a black dial, it's complicated mechanism made it one of the most sought after time keepers for the upper crust, even Martin hadn't owned one. I teared at the privilege of even laying eyes on one. Ashamed, I dabbed my eyelid with my knuckle. Who was that muthafucka?

I'd been given impunity in many aspects without prejudice, and would embrace the wealth bestowed upon me for my children.

Louisa's presence delineated power, there was something I was missing, preeminently she'd been favored. Was she solicited or had she simply embraced? Tacitly, she was adulated, even I revered her and hoped I'd looked at the woman I would become. She hadn't seemed disconnected from her son. Then, I couldn't imagine having a dislike for my child, however, I hadn't known the one I carried.

"Blessed is the child? " He said inquisitively rather than definitive...

A sudden interest in the conversation surfaced briefly, I sensed atonement in his gesture, "Assuredly, he is," he reiterated.

I watched Pyle publically romance his wife while she pushed him away, he angered quickly. I could tell by the guest's dripping wet outerwear the storm had come, would the rain wreak havoc on my land? It pounded against the roof intermittently, each interval more intense, I sat in the belly of the whale. Resplendently I glowed, I had once been buried deep into the core and after much pressure had been applied I rose to the surface and shined bright like a diamond, nobody could tell me shit. They all had given me something, determination.

I ignored the call from the unfamiliar number that was displayed across my screen, the same from earlier.

"Indeed," I said to the man.

"How disdainful of me, I haven't introduced myself, Andre LaFitte," He said while extending his hand. Hesitantly, I declined his gesture, he straightened his posture as I continued to sat gracefully, with child.

"Vigilant, I like that."

I'd become parched and impulsively I'd asked of Procell's whereabouts, "The bridegroom cometh," he said definitively.

Where had I heard the name Andre LaFitte?

With certainty I'd never seen the man who sat before me with chivalry, but I'd heard that name.

His shimmering goatee outlined his chin and lips, I wondered if he had prematurely greyed and decided he was taking up much more of my time than I had intended. Where was Procell, had he gone to aid Martin?

Also, where was Dario. Something intense had settled in my loins, I desired sexual damnation now more than I had before the episode. I could feel his hands on me, and missed his silky lips. Kie had despised me. I'd given him something she couldn't and she'd disapproved.

The Christmas scent filled the air, I piercingly analyzed my surroundings, the man---Andre, sat; idiosyncratic and charming, I remained at ease in a marginally obsequious manner and awaited his ploy, what was his motive? I'd known a man hadn't achieved his status without motives.

The waiter appeared, Andre removed 2 wine glasses from the tray, I could smell the expensive nectar aroma as my child reacted. Knowingly, my temperament could not tolerate the wine but I indulged and soon became more assertive rather than influenced; I praised the savor, he'd said, "Only a milder derivative of Castillo Blanco Grand, but similar in taste, drink, Blessed be the child."

Within the few minutes that followed I wanted another.

When Andre said he must go my disappointment had been unforeseen, I'd decided to give Procell a few more minutes, then I would retire to the room. An auction was taking place while the patrons bidded playfully. I'd begun to feel uncomfortable and needed to stand I'd concluded, but in an attempt to I thought I saw a familiar figure and determined the alcohol initiated the wishful thinking, Christy was dead.

Mr. LaFitte stood and straightened his tuxedo coat before saying, "Enjoy the rest of your evening."

The storm had come, the tree limbs swayed obstinately against the wind in front of the street lamp, the earth rumbled upon lightening making contact with its surface and violently replied.

For a few moments I sat yet contemplating leaving but as if the wine had given me a new perception I looked at my life, maybe I was not supposed to be normal, normal was basic.

I'd never had an interest in music, before Troy I'd never watched movies---I didn't hold telephone conversations with friends, hadn't that implied I was always set aside? The pregnancy had to be the blame for the range of emotions I was abruptly experiencing, I had cried looking at a damn watch, I was all fucked up!

I needed someone but who? Why was it not safe to love I'd often asked myself.

The man had entered wearing a top hat, the red ribbon laid perfectly against it, I could not see his face and had only caught a glimpse of him before he disappeared into the crowd of many. He'd walked in carelessly with his hands in the pockets of his trousers, the exuberant welcomes indicated he was somebody. He had entered alone.

I finally met Louisa's gaze and smiled, she had done the same while blowing a kiss from her misshapen hand.

Although the crowd had not been my preference I had begun to feel elite. My heavy bladder would not withstand another song from the cello. Even though I dreaded standing up I knew I had to return to the room and felt I had satisfied Louisa by attending even if I had not talked to Procell, surely he was a hot commodity and wouldn't have been available to me even if he would have shown up.

Nathaniel and I would meet in only a few hours and I would move forward, first I would deliver to Troy the ultimatum but leave to find my children, all we had to do was collect. The briefcase still sat on the desk, it was funny how Nathaniel had managed to take money that had once belonged to Martin, I'd begun to believe it had all been planned. Why would anyone turn down millions?

I'd felt uneasy about the Bentley, people just didn't give Bentleys away, especially not to strangers. Overprotective of my midsection I fought my way through the crowd but dropped my phone before reaching the door. I'd received new looks from old and new people who had arrived as I knelt and felt for the phone, in disdain I loathed the insensitive crowd of old rich bitches who found humor in my useless search. The ache in my chest was heavy as I gave up and headed toward the door feeling defeated, but before I made it to the exit someone addressed me by my first name. I could not see the phone in his hand for looking into his pigment lacking eyes. The ribbon matched the red Balenciaga shoes he'd worn. His presence had repaired my fragile state. I really had to pee at that point. Just as my bladder was about to give out I accepted the phone and said thank u before running out the doors and toward the elevator. By the time I made it the tears dripped from my chin, was I drunk? Why couldn't I stop crying!?

I only wanted what rightfully belonged to my children and I, we all had suffered. Now I was favored, I just hadn't really known by whom. I'd gone to the room and fallen asleep, the gown laid at the door ripped at the zipper while I slumbered. When the knock had come I didn't know if I'd imagined it or not, I was lonely.

Dario had not answered when I called, hadn't he rescued me from the hotel before? I picked up The Book and began to read, my tears soaked the pages, I'd wiped them careful not to smear the ink, it remained undisturbed. I'd fallen asleep with it in my hand as I had when I was younger.

Maybe Dario was upset, the withdrawals made him---ornery. I would tame him soon as I had done the others.

"Where are u?" I'd asked aloud.

I'd known The Name was inside the book, somewhere but where? How had Daddy known? The text I had deciphered led me to do other research, I'd decoded parts and read aloud. Something had to have taken over Martin's entire existence in the shed and given him that knowledge, way beyond an 11 year old's cognition. Why had she been told to castrate him?

Following the study, I'd googled Andre LaFitte, heir of LaFitte vineyards. He'd come off as estimable, his prestigious repute was only modestly mentioned online, I'd seen him in person. In recent news was his contribution to The Rockefeller Foundation. He had social media images, many in fact, but only one stood out where he'd gone yachting. The symbol was branded flawlessly on his upper arm.

The knock had come twice, again, it wasn't real. Louisa would come inside, I knew she had a key and couldn't even disapprove. When I saw the peephole lighten after the figure had walked away, I'd known someone had come without doubt. I was a joke to the old bitches who were already the children's children.

With skepticism I stood from the bed with the sheet wrapped around my belly. My eyes were swollen and the redness had returned in the injured eye, one after another the voices taunted my shame. I'd never had a love for money, it had just fallen in my lap. The neglect, abuse and grief had taken its toll. I had cried but would now be recompensed.

The storm continued, Christmas Eve had come in chaotically.

I could feel the presence now and hadn't known who could possibly be knocking at 3:30 a.m., the banquet had been over for hours. I grabbed the handle and held it while standing on my tiptoes, the peephole darkened again, my heart began to beat rapidly. The Prada perfume filled the vents, I disregarded it.

I'd gasped, they'd known I was on the other side and could probably hear my labored breathing. When an unfamiliar voice spoke I trembled in my knees, they had addressed me by my first name. Again I looked through the peephole and saw the red ribbon. He asked me to meet him in the lobby before leaving my suite door, nervously, I agreed.