Sign Here for Vengeance

Chapter: 39: They Gave Us a Bad Table

OLIVIA

The camera flash almost blinded me, but I managed to keep my eyes open at the light.

"Thank you so much, Kingston! Very nice." The photographer shook our hand before going to the next people in line. However, the snapshots didn't cease. As we walked the velvet carpet up to the end of the stairs, lights kept flashing at us. Judah had his arm around my barely clothed waist the entire time, and I had mine on his shoulder.

"You good?" He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and smiled, cupping the side of my face after. I could almost hear a few coos in the midst of the noise. I smiled because it wasn't an act. I'm still having a hard time distinguishing his real and fake displays of affection, but there are moments when I notice. I feel that it's real.

I grabbed the hand on my face and gave it a gentle squeeze, "I'm fine." And the crowd bursts into another fit of giggles.

I adjusted my mask as I did Judah's before we went up the final steps. Thank goodness it was a masquerade ball. Classic and cliche for an elite event. Judah wasn't informed until the last minute, of course, as the Harrisons were the host. Luckily, Arthur managed to stop by a decent costume shop on the way so we could get our masks. Simple, but complementary of our black attires.

"Even with a mask, you look beautiful." Judah teased as we walked on.

"And safe." I added, to which he agreed to with a nod.

A masquerade ball, huh. I really got lucky this time. An excuse to cover my face. I made sure to have my face contoured just so I won't easily be recognized. Though I pity the wasted efforts of Irina's makeup artists, the mask made me feel more assured.

Finally, we entered the hall where all the guests were. There was fewer press, the ones who paid for the privilege to be part of the actual event. Everyone looked quite regal, with all their tuxes and luxurious robes. I was able to recognize a few faces even with the mask on, but we didn't greet anyone just yet. We were all made to fall in line and present our invitations at the entrance of the Milstein Hall.

"Cliche." Judah clicked his tongue, disdainfully eyeing the lights and decors on every corner of the museum. I could also talk trash about the place from a subjective perspective, but on the objective, I couldn't. I hate to admit this, but they did quite a job with the warm colored lights, modern and geometric theme, all dyed with the trademark Harrison red. Color of blood.

But Judah had a different opinion of it, "I would've done it in Italy. Private plane. All expenses paid."

"Will the committee even let you do that?"

He shrugged, "There's no rule against it."

"You'd be a showoff." I chuckled.

"No, my love," He leaned into my ear, letting his lips touch and tickle its skin, "I'd be the standard."

A cough stopped me from letting out a giggle. We didn't even notice we were already in front. Judah gave our invitation to the poker-faced attendant, and he whispered to one of his co-workers beside him. The latter ushered us to our table. As we entered the hall, the decor only became more impressive. How did they even get permission to put swirly, red things on the whale?

As for the dinner and program, each guest had their own round table, which was decorated elegantly and elaborately. It almost seemed like there's no space for food. At the right side, the food table just stretched from one end of the hall to another. All the dishes were still covered except for the red cake at the center, as tall as a person. There was also a large space at the center going to the back, with a large fountain on the middle. Maybe it's for the dancing part. This might just be the most lavish gala event I've ever been to. But then again, I wasn't really taken to events like this before when I was a Harrison.