Page 75 of The Maverick (WaterFyre Rising #7)

CHAPTER SEVENTY

VANESSA

Vivian had booked a suite in the Silver Cloud Hotel using a false alias.

All the girls accompanied me except our pregnant friends.

They would arrive when the event started, even though I’d told them to sit this one out.

I didn’t want anything to happen to them in case my plan didn’t work, but I had stubborn friends who didn’t listen to me.

Audri, Natalie, Vivian, Michelle, and I woke up at six in the morning to get ready. The event was scheduled to start at noon, but we wanted extra time in case we had to adjust.

The painting was in storage beside the banquet hall.

I had alerted the hotel staff that I didn’t want to risk the First Lady seeing her portrait.

I wanted her to be surprised. The manager understood and told me to ask the front desk for a key when I was ready to transport the painting to the banquet hall.

After my friends and I freshened up, they dressed in jeans and T-shirts that read We Love the First Lady.

I wore a skin-colored leotard and tossed on a First-Lady T-shirt over it with knit pants.

I’d seen videos of Madeline’s supporters wearing these shirts to her events, and they made it easier for us to maneuver around the hotel.

Natalie carried my makeup bag, and Audri held my garment bag.

I carried two plastic containers. One had strawberries and raspberries.

The other contained Atropa belladonna —a poisonous berry that looked exactly like blueberries.

To a person who wasn’t familiar with this deadly nightshade, it looked safe to eat.

But the Atropa belladonna contained tropane alkaloids, which increased the heart rate and caused delirium, vomiting, hallucinations, and respiratory failure.

I didn’t want the President and his wife in prison. That was too easy. What if they paid someone off? Or what if they escaped? I couldn’t risk that. They deserved all the pain before death came for them. I’d always been a kind person, but I’d learned that some people didn’t deserve kindness.

Audri got the key and told the staff we were moving the painting to the banquet hall, prepping for the event.

It took two of us to transport the giant painting safely.

Natalie locked the door as soon as we entered.

A wide-screen TV was mounted on the wall at the front.

Two more TVs were secured to the side walls.

The hall didn’t have any windows. Musical instruments were already set up in a corner for a local band.

About twenty tables with white linen tablecloths and chairs were scattered around the room.

A flower centerpiece and reserved name tags sat on each table.

A few tall tables stood beside the refreshment area.

We carried the painting to the front of the room near the TV and leaned it against the wall beside a table reserved for the First Couple.

I took off the T-shirt and draped it over a chair, revealing my nude leotard.

I opened the makeup bag and painted my face to match how Madeline looked in the painting.

It disgusted me, but I was doing this for Attikus, me, my mom, the boys, my girls, and all the people who had been hurt by Madeline or The Trogyn.

Natalie helped me dress in the poufy gown made of canvas fabric.

I’d painted the gown to match the floral background.

All I had to do was position myself how I’d painted the figure of the First Lady.

I would be a three-dimensional figure with a floral dress popping off the surface.

On any other day and for any other reason, this would be an innovative art piece for a museum.

But today, I was using this method to capture my enemies.

I positioned myself. “What do you guys think?”

Standing farther away, Natalie squinted. “Move one inch to the right and tilt your head a little.”

I did as she directed.

“Perfect.” Natalie walked up to me, adjusting the gown.

“I don’t know how you do it. You, the dress, and the painting are aligned perfectly,” said Michelle. “It’s impeccable.”

“Thanks.” I smiled warmly.

Michelle and Natalie attached sections of the dress to the Velcro pieces that were hot glued to the painting. This helped keep the dress in place.

The long hem hid my feet, which were in flats in case I needed to dart to safety.

Audri placed the pretty bowl of Atropa belladonna berries at the front table, where a sign read Reserved for the First Lady. She also added bowls of strawberries and raspberries.

Vivian inserted two tiny recorders into the painting and a mini camera. Madeline wouldn’t have allowed me to attend knowing who I was. So this was my way of infiltrating her event.

Time flew by, and I ate some snacks the girls had brought with them.

I couldn’t have done all of this without my friends’ help.

Elena’s Musepaper would blast details about today’s event to her wide audience.

Natalie designed the dress with the hidden pockets so I could hide a knife in case I needed it.

I painted over the canvas dress, blending it into the background of the painting.

Kiera would take photos of the event to give to Elena and Michelle.

Michelle’s blog would release pictures and info to her international audience.

Vivian’s cutting-edge devices provided video and audio to support Elena and Michelle’s media coverage.

Audri’s jewelry company was holding a fundraiser to support all the victims of The Trogyn.

Anyone who donated would get a free bracelet from her new collection.

I could’ve disguised myself as a patron in the audience and watch the event unfold, but I needed to be up-close to Madeline. She had killed my love and my friends. I needed to see her eat the poisonous berries. I was a breath from danger, but I didn’t care.

“We’re heading back to the suite to prepare for the event.” They had purchased tickets under false names in case Madeline had their real names banned.

The girls all stood in front of me, looking worried. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine. Thank you for all your help.”

“Thanks for giving us an actual Super Spy Girl mission,” Michelle teased.

Audri and Natalie held hands.

“Our boys would appreciate this,” Audri said, sorrow filling her eyes.

“I needed this too.” Natalie forced a smile.

“The boys only know part of the plan. We’ll share the rest of the details when we return to our rooms.” Vivian wrapped an arm around Michelle. “They’ll get mad. But, hey, we can’t just sit around and do nothing when they place themselves in danger for us all the time.”

The girls and I had gone through several plans to help our boys at our Chill and Chat, but nothing was finalized. We thought we had more time.

This idea had formed in my mind like a deadly disease that developed inside a body filled with sorrow, hatred, and anger. Attikus’s death triggered my vendetta. I didn’t tell the girls or my mom that I would die with Madeline today if the situation called for it.

When the girls left, I stood in silence.

One dim light glowed in the far corner. In the quiet, I heard Attikus’s voice in my head.

My heart was in pain from missing him so much.

The pain throbbed all over my body. I felt it in my veins, in my lungs, in the air that I breathed.

It hurt to live. I imagined my bodily cells trying their best to heal me.

But my suffering wasn’t a cut that could be bandaged or fixed with a pill.

I didn’t know if I could ever heal from this deep wound.

I would do anything to see him again. Tears approached, but I shoved them down.

The wetness would ruin the paint camouflage.

As I waited for time to tick by, I replayed the day I last saw Attikus. My chest constricted.

I love you so much.

A noise sounded at the two doors, and the hotel staff wearing all black entered, flicking on the lights.

“Wow, look at that exceptional painting of the First Lady,” said the bald man as he prepared the appetizer and refreshment tables near the entrance, which was on the opposite side of where I was.

Don’t come over. Don’t come over.

It was so hard not to blink. I prayed no one stared at the painting long enough to notice my eyes.

The staff brought in seven paintings on easels with numbers on them.

Minutes later, two employees gestured for three men wearing colorful suits to enter.

They walked over to the band area, grabbed their instruments, and practiced a tune.

Thirty minutes later, people arrived, browsed the paintings, and stopped by the appetizer table.

Some attendees wore classy gowns and suits, while others wore unique outfits that told me they were artists.

The crowd seemed to be a blend of the wealthy, creative types, and doctors who wanted to support Brigham and Women’s Hospital.

One doctor still had on his white lab coat.

“Look at that painting.” A woman in a black dress yanked at her spouse’s arm and pointed at me. “It’s gorgeous.”

Nerves twisted my stomach.

“That’s a cool piece,” said the man in the navy suit. He walked up to the painting with the woman. “I don’t think it’s for sale though.”

I held my breath, praying they’d take a seat at their table below the platform.

“It’s not for sale,” said a man with the wild purple hair. “There’s no number on it. That masterpiece would be awesome in my new movie, though.”

“Maybe you can ask the First Lady to borrow it.” The lady smiled.

“Please take your seats, everyone,” said the staff member wearing a little black dress. “The First Couple would be arriving soon.”

I breathed out a sigh of relief as people walked to their assigned seats.