Later that evening.
The air was heavy with perfume and cigar smoke.
Strings of soft violins played in the background.
It echoes through the marble halls of Hotel Valgrande.
Crystal chandeliers dangled like frozen rain.
And the masked guests floated through the grand room in whispers of silk and expensive leather.
It was easy to slip inside the hotel.
Tony didn't need to show an invitation.
He didn't need one.
Especially when Tony was looking confident and arrogant.
Looking like a real mafia—or a businessman.
Wearing an immaculate new black suit, covered with a long black coat and a tailored black half-mask.
It was a masquerade party.
And nobody knows who's who.
His shoes clicked softly against the cold marble as someone took his jacket.
His hair was slicked back, his jaw clean shaven.
He paused at the entrance.
Letting his presence settle.
A few women glanced his way.
He gave them a wink, earning himself a few giggles from the ladies.
'Sometimes a successful infiltration is not all about staying under the radar. Sometimes, staying in the spotlight is more effective.'
A passing waiter offered him a glass of red wine.
He took it with a nod and sipped.
Eyes scanning the crowd over the rim.
Masks everywhere.
Diamonds.
Velvet.
Secrets.
The hair at the back of his neck rose—instinct.
'Didn't feel dangerous but..'
He slowly looked around, and what do you know—
He spotted Alessandro—'the kitty.'
'Damn,' he thought.
Their eyes met.
Silver and blue.
But Tony's eyes did not linger.
He turned slightly.
Sipping his wine.
Acting like he has all the right in the world to be in here.
He fully turned around when he saw Alessandro move towards him.
He put down his now empty glass on an occupied table—and got another wine from another passing waiter.
His hand slid into his pocket.
Acting natural.
Then a familiar voice sliced through the music.
"Antonio!" Alessandro yelled his name.
Tony walked away.
"Cugino!"
Tony pretended not to hear.
'Persistent bastard.'
He took another sip and walked toward the bar across the grand room.
Then casually swapping his now empty glass for a fresh one from a passing tray.
People drifted between them, slow dancing masks and laughter, blocking Alessandro's path.
But eventually—
A hand landed on his shoulder.
'Shit.'
Alessandro was slightly out of breath—face flushed from embarrassment or from weaving through the crowd.
"What the hell are you doing here, Antonio?" he hissed, keeping his voice low.
Tony did not answer.
He just studied Alessandro.
Eyes sharp beneath the mask.
Tony was already thinking on how to get out of the situation.
"Who are you?" Tony asked.
Alessandro's brows furrowed.
He hesitated a bit.
Thinking that he's mistaken.
And decided to check Tony's eyes and build once more.
Recognition flickered in Alessandro's eyes, then fury.
"Don't play games Antonio!"
'Hah. This little shit.'
"I have business here," Tony simply said.
"What business?" Alessandro shot back.
Tony smiled and put the mouth of the glass of wine on his lips.
"It's called—none of your business."
Alessandro's face turned red.
The vein on his temple throbbed.
"Get out of here, before someone sees you."
Tony finished his third glass in one go and placed the glass on a passing waiter's tray.
"And what are you doing here, Alessandrino?" Tony asked, voice silken.
"What?" Alessandro was suddenly confused.
Tony leaned in closer.
"Don't you know that when adults are doing some business, kids like you should just play quietly on the corner?"
Alessandro looked like he might explode.
"Merda! Vaffanculo bastardo! (Shit! Go screw yourself, bastard!)," he cursed Tony
"Yeah, I don't understand Chinese," Tony replied with a shrug, entirely unaffected.
Alessandro let out a string of curses, then he leaned his head towards Tony.
"We're not kids anymore, Antonio!"
Then Tony looked at Alessandro.
His mind wandered back to the past.
Before all the animosity between them.
But one memory resurfaced instead—
'It was his party. The one Antonia went into and never left. And Alessandro let her die, while he was high as a kite on drugs. He let her die.'
Tony's jaw clenched.
'Not tonight,' he said to the ghost.
Suddenly, a wave of murmurs spread through the guests.
All heads turned towards the entrance.
Tony followed their gaze.
There, beneath the made grand archway, stood a figure in a tailored white suit holding a glass of champagne.
Biting his lips, eyes darting everywhere and squirming under the people's stare.
A white mask adorned his face.
Delicate and simple.
Violet eyes shimmered beneath the lights.
Tony felt his body turn cold.
Freezing him in place.
He didn't need to see the brown curls.
Slicked back now and styled clean.
Or the slender frame even from across the room.
He knew.
Goddammit, he knew!
Tony's breath hitched.
Every detail..
Every little damn thing..
After all, they had spent one whole night together—in each other's arms.
Although he ran away with Tony's wallet in the morning..
And that's enough for Tony to remember the stranger's small mannerism.
The biting of the lips.
The squirming.
Especially those eyes.
He remember it.
'Pretty thief. What are you doing here?' he found himself asking.
Then their eyes met.
Just for a second.
Violet eyes faltered.
Tony smirked.
Then the stranger looked away like he got burnt.
And slowly looked back again to where Tony was.
Careful and not looking in Tony's eyes.
The stranger stiffened, and bit his lip.
Hands tightening on the flute glass he's holding.
He trembled.
Almost invisible.
But Tony saw it.
A recognition.
Somehow Tony felt happy.
'You also could not forget me, it seems,' the corner of his lips lifted up for a smile.
Tony reached blindly for another glass from a tray, drank it on one go.
Wiped his mouth with the back of his hand—casual, but calculated.
For a moment, the reason he came here flickered at the edge of his mind—but it was gone the moment those violet eyes met his.
Forgetting Alessandro.
Forgetting why he was here.
His eyes never leaving the stranger.
The rest of the world blurred.
Only the violet eyed stranger existed now.
**