A Deal With The Devil

Today was Selene's twenty-fifth birthday.

The banquet hall was packed, but it felt alive in that fake way only a ton of money can buy. Everything was super polished and shiny.

The flower arrangements were huge and everywhere, looking almost too fresh. In the corner, a string quartet played some fancy European music, while three hundred guests moved around the room like a slow wave. They all walked around with drinks, smiling at each other with those bright, plastic smiles people use when they know everyone is watching them.

Up by the high ceiling, loud laughs floated up and just kind of got lost in the rafters.

At exactly eight o'clock, Selene walked through the main doors.

She was wearing a light purple dress that hit the floor in totally straight, clean lines. She had a cream-colored shawl draped over her arms to block out the November cold, since the building's heaters couldn't really warm up the giant room. She held a silver purse in front of her with both hands,not because she was nervous and squeezing it, but just because she had been taught since she was a kid that a girl's hands should always have a proper place to rest.

She looked exactly like what she was.

The perfect Calloway heiress.

People noticed her the second she walked in, which always happens to the birthday girl at these kinds of parties. Some people openly stared, turning their heads to watch her purple dress move through the crowd. Other people went out of their way to look absolutely anywhere else. That was its own kind of drama,you could tell they were trying way too hard to act like they didn't care she was there.

Giant banners hung all around the room. Her own face stared back at her from the big posters, wearing the same stiff, professional smile she had been making for cameras since she was a little kid.

Happy Birthday Selene Elaine Calloway.

She grabbed a glass of champagne from a waiter's tray without even stopping, barely even looking at him, and kept walking into the crowd. Her eyes scanned the room in a slow way she had practiced a million times before.

She wasn't rushing or sweating it, never that, she was just looking. She was taking notes on who showed up, who brought a date, and who was gossiping with who.

She was also trying to find Jessica.

Jessica promised she'd be there before eight. She had already sent three messy voice notes from her car on the way over, each one louder than the last, complaining about the traffic, her outfit, and how stressed out she was.

But Jessica wasn't anywhere near the front.

Selene walked past a group of her dad's business partners, giving a quick nod to the ones who looked over, and found a little open spot to stand by the wall. She checked the room again. The bar was totally jammed. The dance floor only had about three couples on it who had stopped trying to make awkward small talk and just wanted to dance. Along the back wall, the tables were empty, covered in heavy white and gold cloths.

Still no Jessica.

She took a sip of her champagne but didn't really taste it. Right then, her phone buzzed inside her purse.

She stepped over to an empty table and dropped her drink, clicked the silver latch open, and pulled out her phone.

One text. From her dad.

Come to the garden now.

Just four words. No period at the end. That was exactly how Victor Calloway always texted, he gave orders, he didn't ask questions. It's how you text when you haven't had to ask anyone for permission in thirty years.

Selene just stared at the screen for a second.

Around her, the party kept going in its loud, rich way. Someone clinked a fork against a glass nearby. The band started playing a heavier song with more violin. A woman behind her laughed way too loud at something that probably wasn't even funny.

Selene did a tiny, private roll of her eyebrow, just a quick look for herself and dropped the phone back in her purse.

She turned around, walked away from the noise, and walked out into the dark garden.

----

The cool night air hit her the second she stepped outside.

She stopped for a moment on the stone steps leading down from the party. She needed her eyes to adjust to the dark after being under all those bright indoor lights. The garden stretched out in front of her, lit up gently by little lights built right into the stone paths. Behind her, the noise from the party faded into a quiet, faraway hum.

It was freezing. Properly freezing. She pulled her cream shawl tighter around her shoulders.

Selene knew this place like the back of her hand. The Calloway Grand had belonged to her dad since she was nine years old. He bought it the way he bought everything else,quietly and for an amount of money nobody ever talked about out loud. She used to run around these gardens on summer afternoons while her dad had meetings inside.

She had memorized every hedge, fountain, and hidden corner way before she even understood what those meetings were actually about.

The garden patio was to the left, past the rose bushes that had been trimmed back for the winter. It sat under an old stone archway decorated with little string lights that glowed a warm orange in the dark.

She heard him before she actually saw him.

Laughter. It was her dad's laugh,totally controlled even when he was amused, never getting too loud. But underneath it was another laugh. This one was way louder, a deep belly laugh. It sounded completely unbothered and a little too extra.

She walked through the archway and froze.

Victor was standing under the patio roof in his black tux, holding a glass and looking totally relaxed. Standing right next to him was a man she didn't recognize at first. Then, after a slow blink, it clicked.

He had a potbelly and broad shoulders that used to be muscle but had gone soft over years of comfortable living. He was bald, and his head caught the orange glow from the string lights. He had thick fingers wrapped around a crystal glass.

Reginald Fitch.

She knew that name the way you know things your dad mentions randomly and never explains. It was just a detail she had filed away in her brain, waiting for later. She had heard it twice in the past year. Once during a phone call she wasn't supposed to overhear. And once during a conversation that completely stopped the second she walked into the room.

The two men were laughing at a joke she missed, looking like two guys in the middle of a big celebration. Victor leaned in and said something quiet, right next to Fitch's ear. Fitch busted out laughing again, huge and loud, like a guy who thought he was absolutely hilarious. He reminded her of a kid who hadn't learned yet that you don't have to show off for everyone.

Victor smiled and clinked his glass against Fitch's.

Selene stood on the path, still a few yards away from the patio. The warm orange light didn't quite reach where she was standing.

She didn't move forward.

She didn't really know why. Her dad had texted her to come out here. The normal thing to do was just walk the last twenty steps, show up, and see what he wanted. That's what she had been doing her entire life whenever Victor called.

But something kept her feet glued to the ground

It wasn't a real thought. It was a gut feeling, something deep in her chest that noticed a weird vibe before her brain could even figure it out. It was just the way these two men were laughing about something she wasn't a part of. It was the way Fitch's eyes had darted, just once, toward the hotel doors before looking back at Victor.

And it was the way her dad didn't look toward the doors at all.

It was like he already knew she was there and just chose not to look up.

Selene stood there in the freezing garden, she looked at her dad and the stranger next to him, and a feeling washed over her. It was quiet, the exact way the worst kinds of feelings always hit you.

She just knew she was not going to like whatever happened next.