And then, just when Genevieve thought things were finally going well, all hell broke loose.
Scattered throughout the room, several guests positioned at strategic points discarded their party attire, revealing dark clothing and bulletproof vests beneath.
In a synchronized motion, weapons were drawn, their cold barrels gleaming under the chandelier lights. Tables were overturned, glasses shattered against marble floors, and the once joyous atmosphere erupted into chaos as terrified guests screamed in panic.
The deafening applause and cheers that filled the hall hindered everyone from finding out the exact moment things went amiss. By the time those on stage and the guards stationed around the mansion realized it, it was already too late.
Up on the stage, Genevieve watched the chaos unfold as if she were trapped in a movie trailer, unable to make sense of what was happening. Her gaze darted to her brother, who wore an equally stunned expression.
Letting out a nervous laugh, she asked, "Vince, is this some kind of special performance? Why is everyone screaming though?"
Instead of a reply, what she got from her brother was a sharp shove to the ground and a yell, ''Everybody, down!''
Her knees hit the ground in full force, and she just about winced in pain when her mother pushed her to the back of the throne chair she would have been sitting on at this moment, if everything had gone well.
Genevieve gasped, her voice catching as she tried to call out, "Papa! Mam—" The words died in her throat when she saw her father pulling a gun from beneath his coat, her mother and brother following suit with similar cold gazes in their eyes as if they had been trained for this.
Guns? When the hell had her father and brother found the time to put it inside their coat, and her mother... how the hell had she hid a gun under her dress?
No. Genevieve shook her head, realizing that shouldn't be her focus right now. But she still couldn't stop herself from wondering where her parents got the guns from and what they were doing with the weapons!
"Close your eyes, Eve!" her mother's voice pierced through her thoughts, her voice prominent amidst the chaos. But Genevieve didn't obey.
She couldn't.
From her hiding spot behind the chair, she had a clear view of the hall's grand entrance doors, where people were shoving and scrambling to escape, their frantic movements a stark contrast to the nightmare unfolding around her.
These people were supposed to be her friends; with their parents and guardians who had accompanied them, eager to make an acquaintance with the immensely wealthy members of the private Armani family. If things had gone as planned, they'd probably be fawning over her parents and pledging their loyalty and forever friendship at this moment.
Loyalty. Friendship.
Friends?
The word sounded ridiculous as it echoed repeatedly in Genevieve's mind. Maybe the most appropriate word to use for these people would be guests. Yeah, the party had been disrupted and everyone was heading back to their respective abodes without even wishing the birthday girl.
But what shocked Genevieve the most wasn't the increasing chaos or the fleeing guests; it was the fact that the intruders in dark clothing weren't attacking those rushing out and trying to escape. Instead, all their focus was on the podium. Guns drawn, they opened fire, and her parents and brother responded in kind, bullets tearing through the air in a deadly exchange.
Genevieve watched in stunned silence, her jaw slack as her parents ducked behind every available barrier they could find. One by one, the intruders in dark clothing dropped, felled by precise shots to the forehead or neck; some by her parents, others by the guards now flooding in through the open doors.
She watched as the attackers quickly divided, half turning their fire toward the incoming reinforcements, while the rest remained fixated on the podium, determined to break through to her family... and her.
She continued to watch as glasses shattered, blood splattered, chandeliers came crashing down, and plates clattered to the floor. The towering table holding her magnificent birthday cake was overturned, sending it tumbling into ruin. Piece by piece, Genevieve watched her dream birthday crumble before her eyes, dissolving into what it always was... a dream.
The deafening noise from the gunshots swallowed her whole, her body trembling as she instinctively wrapped her arms around herself, slowly slipping into a daze.
''Get your sister out of here, Vince! We are outnumbered!'' her father's angry voice broke into the safe cocoon she'd mentally hid herself in.
''Can't,'' she heard her brother reply. ''We are outnumbered.''
''Exactly why you have to leave,'' her father yelled again.
''Mother should go instead. She's almost out of bullets!'' Vince yelled back.
The next time her father talked, Genevieve could make out the hint of desperation mixed with worry in his voice.
''Cazzo! Is that true, Stella?''
''I can handle myself,'' Genevieve mother replied, with the same tense tone her husband and son used. ''Let's swap weapons, Vince. You take your sister inside and protect her with your life.''
As much as Genevieve wanted to protest and say something, anything at all, the words refused to leave her mouth. She couldn't even move. Yet, she continued to hear everything her parents and brother said clearly amidst the noise. Their conversation as they debated who to get her to safety and protect her with his live, while not mentioning anything about their own lives.
As if their own lives meant nothing while hers meant everything, even though she was the cause of what was going on. If she hadn't insisted on this wretched birthday banquet and had accepted the usual birthday lunch with family, nothing would have happened.
''Vincent Arnaldo Armani, fucking listen to me for once in your lifetime. Hand the gun to your mother and get your sister to safety!''
''I'd use Eve as a shield to save my own life if you force me to leave," Vince retorted, his voice heavy with determination. "Mama? Leave with Eve.''
''Vince—''
Stella interrupted her husband, her words coming out in a rush, ''We have no time for this! I will leave with her. Cover for us! And if any of you dares to die, I will bring him back to life and kill him one more time!"
The next thing Genevieve knew, she was yanked out of her hiding place and pulled into her mother's embrace.
''I'm getting you out of here, baby,'' the older woman whispered, and as if she knew Eve couldn't control her legs, she lifted her and headed towards the side doors they had entered the hall from.
Her father and brother covered for them and continued shooting, and all Genevieve could do was stare over her mother's shoulder at their cold backs in numbness.
Her father probably felt her gaze on him, seeing as he suddenly turned sideways so he could look at her while still firing his bullets blindly at every corner.
''Mi dispiace, Bambina. Take care of your Mama."
He was sorry...
And then, it happened; right before Genevieve's eyes. One of the huge figures clad in dark clothing leapt onto the podium, the crack of a gunshot splitting the air. The voice she thought she had lost clawed its way up her throat, unleashing in a bloodcurdling scream.
"Papa!"