The three of them drank, ate, and drifted through casual topics at the bar. They teased Spion about his ill-fated choice of a dancing partner, laughed at Trevor’s awkward high school memories, and listened to Alisa’s anecdotes about the strange inner workings of City Hall. With plenty of laughter and a steady flow of drinks, time slipped away. By ten o’clock, the crowd had thinned significantly.
The hall’s lights returned to their full, bright brilliance. The dancing had ceased. Lady News and Report Man were still performing the dance of high-society socializing, while the newlyweds were huddled in a booth with their friends, playing loud, boisterous games.
“Do you want to meet the bride or the groom? I can introduce you,” Alisa offered, noticing Trevor glancing toward the booth.
“Oh, no. I’m not into polo or classical music—we’d have nothing to talk about,” Trevor admitted. “I honestly expected more from this party. Usually, these things have slideshows of embarrassing childhood photos.”
“Maybe they did that at the actual wedding ceremony,” Spion suggested, popping a rosemary-roasted almond into his mouth.
“No, there were no photos at the wedding either. Fiona actually wanted them—I even helped her curate a collection from our college days. But her father vetoed the idea last week,” Alisa said. “He told her he didn’t want any personal photos being misused by Gossip News or some other tabloid. The wedding itself was fun, but this party? This is just a networking event for the parents.”
“That’s depressing for the couple,” Trevor said. “I can’t imagine my wedding being hijacked by my dad’s artist friends and business partners… or his girlfriend Monica’s model friends.”
“Actually, I wouldn’t mind supermodel friends,” Spion interjected. “Maybe Monica can introduce me.”
“Wake up, Spion. You’re a broke student. Supermodels date for bank accounts,” Trevor joked.
Spion winked, his mouth moving silently as he mouthed: “Just one night.”
Alisa laughed, then turned to Trevor. “Speaking of weddings, are you seeing anyone?”
“Single and open to the market,” Trevor said.
Just then, a man approached them. He was slightly taller than Trevor, with a long face, a neatly trimmed short beard, and dark, wavy hair. A gold caduceus-shaped pin was fastened to the lapel of his tuxedo.
“Alisa,” he said with a distinct, melodic foreign accent. “We can go now.”
“Okay,” Alisa replied. She turned back to Trevor and Spion. “This is Patric, a friend from the Neverlands. He’s new to the city, so I’m playing tour guide and driving him to his hotel. It was great catching up, guys. Have a good night.”
“Bye, Alisa. Drive safe,” Trevor said, watching as she stopped at the booth to say a quick goodbye to Fiona before leaving with Patric.
“He’s ‘a friend,’ Trevor. I think the door is still open,” Spion teased.
Before Trevor could respond, a sudden burst of raised voices cut through the room, drawing the attention of every remaining guest.
“You stole my husband, don’t you dare try to steal my daughter too!”
A woman in a dark green velvet gown stood trembling with fury, pointing a finger at a younger woman in a sky-blue silk gown.
“You’re being irrational, Victoria,” a man with graying hair said coldly. “For god’s sake, we can discuss this in private.” He looked around, clearly embarrassed by the dozens of eyes fixed on them.
“Mom? Dad? What’s happening?” Fiona rushed over, her face pale.
“Your father wants to marry this… this whore,” Victoria spat, her voice cracking. “He chose your wedding day to announce it!”
“Mom, ignore it. I’m right here. Let’s go home.” Fiona supported her mother, gave her new husband Mateo Style a look.
“Yes, take your mother home, Fiona. Let her sleep it off,” Franco said, his hand firmly gripping the arm of the younger woman.
“Shut up!” Fiona snapped at her father. She turned to her mother, supporting her. “Mom, let’s go. Now.”
“I’m coming with you,” Mateo said, stepping to his wife’s side. He glanced at his friends. “Sorry, guys.”
The newlyweds swept out of the hall with Victoria, leaving a vacuum of stunned silence and frantic whispering in their wake.
“I think the party is over, we should leave,” Mrs. Style murmured to her husband and James Style. They stood just outside the circle of onlookers.
As the Styles departed, James Style walked over to the bar, followed by Lady News and Report Man.
“Well, I suppose you’ve all met the bride’s father, Mr. Franco,” James said with a weary, wry smile. “Not exactly the introduction I had planned, and clearly, now isn’t the moment for a proper one, either.”
“Nothing beats a party with a side of drama,” Lady News said cheerfully. “I bet this hits Gossip News in ten minutes.”
“Anyone want to play poker in my suite?” James asked, lowering his voice significantly. “It’s a premium room. We can discuss the case I mentioned there.”
The team nodded in unison.
“Let’s move. We’ll take the Premium Elevator,” Style said, heading toward the far right of the hall.
The Premium Elevator was a restricted convenience, accessible only to Premium guests with active suite bookings in the Premium Section. Once they stepped inside the cabin, Style pulled out his phone, opened the Dressrious app, and touched the elevator’s “Start” button with his phone to authenticate his credentials. The elevator then began its smooth ascent. When the doors glided open on the second floor, they were greeted by the lush luxury of the Premium Section: the floor was swallowed by deep purple carpet, and the air was heavy with the sweet, night-blooming scent of osmanthus.
Style’s suite was at the very end of the corridor. As he unlocked the door via the app, the lights inside the room hummed to life automatically. A soft, synthesized voice announced, “Good evening, Mr. Style.”
The suite was massive, furnished in dark black walnut and cream sheepskin. The faint aroma of roses lingered in the air.
“More whiskey?” Style asked, heading for a bar that held the same brand of Bourbon they had sampled earlier.
“Not really; I think I’ve had enough to drink tonight,” Report Man said, settling onto the sofa.
“Me too. Water would be fine,” Lady News added. Trevor and Spion nodded in agreement.
Style poured a glass of water for each of them but opted for a whiskey for himself. “I imagine you’re all quite tired, so let’s discuss the case first. If you’re up for it, we can play poker later; I’ve booked rooms for all of you, so we have plenty of time.”
“I’m all ears,” Lady News said, and everyone else nodded.
“I’ll get straight to it. Yesterday morning, my brother informed me that someone broke into the Franco mansion two weeks ago. It’s strange for two reasons. First, the security there is top-tier—four guards on duty that night. Yet the intruder rummaged through the master bedroom and left without being spotted.”
“A professional,” Report Man noted.
“Exactly. But what’s more confusing is that Franco refused to report it to the police. He later admitted to receiving a ransom note demanding millions, to be delivered to the Gotham Hotel last Wednesday. He claims he ignored it. But on that very day, a fire broke out in the hotel, gutting the ballroom and the lounge.”
“You think the fire was connected?” Spion asked.
“I do. According to the police, the fire was caused by a large suitcase left in the lounge, but they couldn’t identify the person who put it there. I suspect Franco may have done some dirty things; someone knew about it, wanted to find evidence, and blackmailed him. That is why he didn’t want to report the break-in and blackmail to the police. I want to find out what it is because I don’t want it to endanger my family.”
“What does the Senator think?” Trevor asked.
“My brother agrees. If you all take the case, you’ll have his full backing—discreetly, of course.”
“Sounds interesting; even Gossip News suspects the story of his ‘moneyball’ growth,” Report Man said. “But how shall we start?”
“I’ve already suggested to Mr. Franco that he hire a private team to find the intruder and the blackmailer without involving the police. He agreed. I’ll introduce you to him tomorrow. You’ll be working for him, and he’ll likely make you sign a dozen NDAs. But remember: I am the one actually hiring you. If you find anything illegal that could endanger my brother and nephew, I need to know first. I promise you, the rewards will be generous.”
“So, we’re double agents,” Lady News said with a sharp smile. “I’m in.”
“Count me in too,” Report Man agreed.
Trevor realized he hadn’t received any coding projects from his clients recently and needed the money, so he nodded. “I’m in, too.”
Seeing that Trevor had agreed, Spion followed suit. “I’m fine with it. My Natalis Invicti holiday starts next week, so I’ll have plenty of time then.”
“Perfect, thank you all,” Style said, a relieved smile crossing his face. “Now, anyone want to play poker?”
The four of them shook their heads, each wearing a weary expression after the long night’s drama.