Handcuffs And Kisses (Series #1)

Prologue

6 years ago-
Unknown POV

As I entered the room, I exhaled deeply—looking around me to see how well I knew the space. I've been here before, but the decor changes, so I never got used to it. Gothic panels and glass bookcases extend fifteen feet to a plaster medallion and frescoed ceiling. A marble fireplace at the back of the room is said to be ideally suited for winter.

The room is massive and rectangular in style. I focused on the faint polka music playing in the distance. There were several types of people in the crammed hall. To put it lightly, this party is boujee. The aristocracy represents the party. The mansion is decorated with priceless artwork and furnishings, and the guests dress in designer clothing--drinking pricey champagne. It's an exhibition of lavishness.

I enter, fix my tie, and smooth out my suit. At the counter, a wine glass awaited me. My eyes explore the alternatives, ranging from exotic fruits to pricey caviar. Apart from the alcohol, they never appeared to touch the meal. These dishes are only a demonstration of riches and a challenge for other affluent people to provide finer food for their gatherings. All these delicacies, decorations and jewels are just ways for them to show how much money they have in their pockets that we do.

The majority of individuals wore form-fitting gowns and suits. If your clothes were too baggy, you weren't fit to be an aristocrat. The ladies showed off their diamond watches and jewels. Outside the roads were crowded with photographers and reporters. Luckily, security was enhanced over the prior occasion. Even though I am not the focus of the media, it gives me concern. When I hear clicks, I am even more nervous. In the name of the media, they are more akin to stalkers.

The familiar face of Paul Beckett caught my vision. He appeared to be talking to someone, so I approached him. We were business partners, yet I couldn't do anything when Paul got frustrated and departed. He thought of better ideas than I did and finally established a prosperous company. To earn money, I would rather pursue the correct route than one that leads to evil. The same, however, cannot be said of Paul since he went down the path of wickedness. As far as I know, he runs a business that deals with human trafficking. Even the thought of it gives me shivers, but I don't have any other choice. I have to get along with him.

Paul is the show's host and the main attraction. I wasn't going to the party at first, but my curiosity won out. In this nasty society we live in, money is all that matters--and they are correct. We overlook our flesh and blood to live a luxurious life and accomplish our aspirations. Do I honestly feel that I would never choose the incorrect path to gain money? I tightened my hold on the wine glass--considering the grisly methods.

I'm just a modest drug dealer, yet somehow, I envy Paul's skills when I look at him. I wonder if one day I could get his job and get the life I deserve, but at what price? Every year, I attend this party to see Paul's business progress. When I look in the mirror, his reflection does not correspond to my own, and it's revolting to me.

"Hey, I heard about your wife. I regret not being able to attend the funeral, but I'm here for you."

Paul spoke with a broken expression like he couldn't care less.

"Did you even cared about her?" I asked in a passive aggressive way.

"Of course, she was such a nice assistant and friend. But today try to forget her and enjoy the party" Paul gave a small comforting pat on my shoulder while giving a concerned look.

I sighed and sipped the last drop of the refined wine. My wife, Kylie, died in a car accident last week. I couldn't save her, and now she's devouring me. Perhaps if I had the finances, her life could've been spared by my saving. During this time, I asked Paul for assistance, but he was out of station and didn't return my calls. My daughter is devastated as well.