Chapter 5 - The Gala
The ballroom at the Pierre Hotel was a sea of New York's elite, mixed seamlessly with the city's most dangerous men masquerading in tailored suits.
When Dante and Sophia entered, the string quartet's music seemed to dim beneath the sudden, rushing wave of whispers.
“I thought they divorced.” “Look at her. He never let her go.” “Rossi is going to lose his mind.”
Dante’s hand was a heavy, reassuring weight at the small of her back. They moved through the crowd like royalty. Sophia kept her chin high, projecting a flawless, arrogant calm she had learned from watching Dante during their marriage.
Halfway across the room, a man detached himself from the crowd. He was young, slick, with a sharp jaw and cold, calculating eyes. Lorenzo Rossi.
“Dante,” Lorenzo smiled, spreading his arms. “I am stunned. I heard there was an... accident on the FDR a few nights ago. I didn't expect you to leave your fortress.”
Lorenzo’s eyes slid to Sophia, lingering far too long on the silver silk. “And the beautiful Sophia. I was deeply saddened to hear about your warehouse fire. Truly tragic.”
Sophia felt Dante’s muscles turn to stone beside her.
Before Dante could speak, Sophia stepped forward, a cold, elegant smile on her lips.
“Thank you, Lorenzo,” Sophia purred, her voice dripping with poison. “But my business is fully insured. It’s just fabric. Though I find it fascinating how accidents and fires seem to follow those who are desperate for attention. It’s almost... amateur.”
Lorenzo’s smile slipped, his eyes flashing with sudden rage at being insulted by a woman in front of his peers.
Dante let out a low, dark chuckle. He pulled Sophia flush against his side. “My wife has always had a low tolerance for amateurs, Lorenzo. Enjoy your party. It will be your last.”
Dante led her away, straight onto the dance floor. He pulled her into a waltz, his hand gripping hers tightly.
“You are terrifying,” Dante murmured, his eyes blazing with admiration and heat.
“I learned from the best,” she whispered back.
May you like
They danced, surrounded by enemies, but for three minutes, the rest of the world disappeared. The chemistry that had fueled their marriage roared back to life, hot and undeniable. Dante pulled her closer, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.
“We’re leaving,” he commanded softly. “Rossi took the bait. He’s going to make a move tonight.”
