Going Undercover With a Yikver

8. Pretty face

Vaughn was able to get us an invitation here from an inside source we have, if it weren't for him there would be no other way into an event like this. It was also the only kind we could squeeze into, any other event was too private for strangers. This one is a charity fundraiser for a local community, people with money are invited and since Zias is under the disguise of being very rich, him being here wouldn't throw anyone off. I'm his arm candy, that's not unusual either.

We've also been spotted at one of the most perstinged restaurants in the city and staying at the priciest hotel too, if anyone cared to ask we'd be covered.

"Please fill out the card and I will provide you with a ticket, one card per ticket," a man dressed in a pin up suit says as we reach the entrance.

His suit soothes the doubts I had earlier on what to wear. I told Zias it was probably a black tie event but wasn't clear, now I am.

Thankfully there were outfits for us to choose from in the suitcases made for us. I went with a silver floor length silk dress that has a low back and a square neckline with short sleeves. The dress is modest enough but still too sexy to be considered conservative. My heels are black pumps, I kept the jewelry simple with just a small pair of black earrings and a thin black bracelet. I placed a black and silver diamond brooch in my hair. It's holding half of my hair in the clasp while the rest falls down the middle of my back, loose curls fall around my face.

Zias is wearing a black suit with a white button down and a black bow tie. The suit fits him perfectly, his face is as chiseled as ever, his features standing out as not another inch of skin is exposed besides his hands.

He looks so handsome and he's here with me... No, he's not. He's here with Samara. It's becoming harder to remind myself of that.

"Sure." Zias takes the cards from the man.

Written on it is a form with two blank spots. Name of guest and Amount donated. The man had said these cards needed to be filled in order to get a ticket, most definitely to ensure every participant makes a donation.

The Amount donated line is partially filled out with 5 zeros making your minimest donation 10,000 per guest. Clever Kal Higgins.

Zias takes the pen the man offers and fills out the card, he writes 50,000 in each and hands them back. The man places them in a wooden box and then hands Zias two white tickets.

"How are you planning on making the transfer?" the man asks, his voice so proper we might as well be talking to a machine.

Zias nods his head towards the door where our driver, Zack, stands. "My driver will give you what you need."

The man takes a glance at Zack before nodding and opening a red curtain separating the entryway from the event. "Thank you for your donation."

Zias ignores him and leads me through the curtains, on the other side is a long hallway that leads to a set of double doors. They're opened for us and reveal a grand ballroom filled with people. There are high chandeliers and ribbons tied from both ends of the room, meeting in the middle. There are round tables on the edges of the room with high floral arrangements and a dance floor where some people slow dance together. There's a stage in the front of the room with a single microphone in the middle.

The room is beautiful and well designed. For a moment I'm stuck, mesmerized by it all. Then Zias is guiding us to a table and we take a seat in two empty chairs.

A waiter comes over and takes our drink orders and then the talking begins. Zias is dragged from conversation to conversation, many people coming up to introduce themselves to us.