Chapter 7: The Trespass
"Because you were wearing your uniform! We were wearing oversized clothes so we wouldn't get caught! Could you really have done without it?" Dasha scoffed.
"But how," Kira began, curiosity creeping in " did you manage to delay that woman's arrival?"
"Simple," she replied smilingly "as soon as I entered, I placed a chewed gum on her seat. That took her time."
"When?" Elena asked.
"While giving the paper and the card. She had to stand to take it right? It was the golden opportunity. Now we change our clothes in the washroom and execute the second plan." Dasha said, already moving ahead.
Kira and Elena followed. Kira bent in closer to her and whispered in her ear. "So far, how do you feel about this?"
"I'm excited!" She whispered back. They both giggled as they entered the washroom.
As she said it, she pretended to ignore the way her hair on hand straightened and the ignorable drop of sweat that passed down her temple.
They entered the washroom. One by one took turns and changed into the new dresses. Dasha had some makeup put on and so did the others. They completely transformed into different personalities, vibrant and confident.
As they moved out, Elena got the doubt. If that famous personality is attending the function, it must be some sort of Elite and high profile. How would they sneak in? She turned to Dasha, brows knitted in confusion.
"Dasha?" She called out. "How are we supposed to enter a place where…?"
"Through invitation." Dasha cut her in, taking out a beautiful and fancy card out of her handbag. "We're not sneaking… we're invited!" She made herself clear.
"Who invited us?" She asked, genuinely in denial.
"Kira, would you share your story?" Dasha asked.
"Ok" she began, clearing her throat. "Three days ago, I was at a restaurant with my father—an ordinary afternoon dressed in routine. We had lunch, nothing remarkable, nothing that hinted at what would follow. Yet, as I sat there, absentmindedly stirring my drink, my attention snagged on a group of men entering the restaurant—five, perhaps six of them. All in black. Not just dressed well—uniformed in authority. Their voices were low, controlled, deliberate. The kind of voices that don't ask for attention… but command it anyway. All the waiters, staff, followed behind them, though they didn't ask for it. Everyone bent their heads when these men passed by.
I ignored it at first. They went straight in. After I had my meal finished, curiosity had already taken root. On my way to the washroom, I passed a set of double doors—the entrance to a ballroom. Slightly ajar. Carelessly so. That was the first mistake someone made. And I noticed.
On my way back, I slowed. Then stopped. One look. That's all I said to myself. I peeped inside, unsure what would it be like.
The hall was vast, opulent to the point of intimidation. Crystal chandeliers hung like frozen constellations, the marble beneath my feet reflecting them in fractured brilliance. Every detail whispered money—no, not whispered—announced it.
The men were already inside. They were discussing a wedding. Not the kind whispered about in families—the kind constructed. Grand. Calculated. Expensive enough to make the air feel heavier around it.
They weren't merely booking the ballroom. They were securing it. Controlling it. The hotel owner stood before them—not as a businessman negotiating terms, but as a subordinate awaiting instruction. There was a certain stiffness in his posture, a forced humility in the way he nodded too quickly, smiled too tightly. And kept his head bent, not meeting their eyes.
Then one of them produced a card. Not just an invitation—a key.
He placed it on the table with deliberate care, as if even the surface it touched should feel honored. His voice dropped, colder now.
"No entry without this. Anyone attempting to trespass…" A pause. Calculated.
"…handle it. Severely. Elimination, if necessary."
The words didn't echo. They settled.
The owner nodded. Not surprised. Not shocked. Just… compliant.
The man continued, more casually now, as if discussing the weather.
"Of course, exceptions exist. High-profile guests may arrive with security. Their guards need not carry individual invitations. One card per principal guest will suffice." A faint smirk tugged at his lips.
"You understand. People like Egor Creed don't walk alone."
And that's when everything else blurred.
The chandeliers, the marble, the men—their voices—all of it faded into a dull hum.
Because one name remained.
Egor Creed. It echoed loud. Whatever was about to happen, Egor Creed was coming to attend it! Egor Creed!
My pulse didn't quicken—it spiked. Sharp. Sudden. Unforgiving.
The card lay there. Untouched. Unguarded. Almost insultingly so. And the owner—fool that he was—treated it like paperwork. Something to be filed, forgotten, misplaced.
But I didn't forget. I waited. Watched. Measured every second like it owed me something.
The moment the men stepped away to inspect the hall, the air shifted. Opportunity doesn't knock—it dares. And I've never been good at ignoring dares.
My fingers moved before my thoughts could interfere.
A single, swift motion.
The card slid off the table and into my hand—cool, smooth, dangerously light for something carrying that much consequence.
For a fraction of a second, I hesitated.
Not out of fear.
Out of realization.
This—this wasn't just theft. It was trespassing into a world that doesn't forgive mistakes.
Then I slipped it into my handbag.
Just like that.
My heartbeat thundered in my ears as I walked out—not ran, not rushed—walked. Because panic draws attention. Confidence erases it.
No one stopped me.
No one noticed.
Or at least… no one let me know they did.
Later, when I told Dasha, her eyes didn't widen in shock.
They gleamed.
We didn't need many words. Some ideas are understood in silence—the reckless ones,
especially.
"And you…" Dasha interrupted, pointing her finger at Elena.
"We had to bring you in. But not with the truth. You're too rational for that. Too careful. You would've shut it down before it even began.
So we lied."
"A park, we said." Kira continued " Just an outing. Because if we told you the truth—that we were about to walk into a heavily guarded, invitation-only event tied to dangerous men… all for a fleeting chance to see someone like Egor Creed—You would've refused.
And we couldn't have that. So now you know.
The card is real. The plan is real. And the risk? Very real.
"Now tell me—" Dasha interrupted again, excitement filled in her voice.
"Are you excited… or are you finally realizing just how deep you're already dragged in this?"
Elena didn't say anything. Her eyes widened, lips stretched apart. Realisation, excitement, fear, nervousness, happiness, regret… there was no emotion left that she wasn't having. A flicker of every emotion passed down her spine like a roller coaster speeding too much.
Kira dragged her by arm which made her realise that Dasha was already steps ahead and they were supposed to leave.
She looked at the watch. 5pm. Not bad. She still got 3 hours for the Rendezvous with Egor Creed.
They sat in the car, discussing what they'd say to him, how he might appear, how they'd sneak out afterwards and not let the world know a word about what happened.
Suddenly the thought struck her mind. What would happen if he came to know about this? The trip to a little park itself had too many consequences to bear. It had too many breached protocols. But this? This was way worse. This was like breaking his every rule. Everything. It didn't have one thing left that didn't disappoint him. Would 3 hours be really enough? What if she got delayed even by a minute?
The ride to the restaurant was slow, heavy and pressing. But not suffocating… at least not to Dasha and Kira. They were enjoying every bit of it. Time stretching too much for a moment they were about to have. With Elena's mind filled with the remaining adventure that was about to unfold and the possible outcomes of it.