Chapter 17 - The Drake Ballroom
The Grand Ballroom of the Drake Hotel was a swirling spectacle of crystal chandeliers, gold leaf, and the upper crust of Illinois society. Politicians, judges, foreign dignitaries, and the heads of the city's legitimate corporate giants mingled seamlessly with the disguised lords of organized crime.
When Luca and I stepped through the double mahogany doors, the ambient chatter in the vast room noticeably dropped several decibels.
Dozens of eyes turned toward us. Whispers rippled through the crowd like wind through dry leaves.
*“Is that Moretti’s new head of security?”*
*“They say she’s the one who took down the Bellandi faction in one night.”*
*“Look at her... she doesn't look like staff. She looks like she owns him.”*
I kept my gaze forward, maintaining a serene, regal expression while my peripheral vision scanned the room with systematic precision.
Four private security contractors stationed at the balcony stairs—ex-military posture, bulging armpits beneath their suits. Two waitstaff moving with unnatural stiffness near the service corridor. And standing near the central ice sculpture, surrounded by a court of laughing socialites, was Julian Moretti-Bellandi.
He was wearing an immaculate ivory tuxedo, holding a glass of vintage champagne. When he saw us, his smile broadened, revealing sharp, perfectly straight teeth.
Excusing himself from his companions, Julian glided across the parquet floor toward us.
"Luca," Julian greeted warmly, spreading his arms as if welcoming a long-lost brother. "You honored my invitation. I was beginning to think you were afraid of the light."
"The light only blinds those who live in hiding, Julian," Luca replied coldly, refusing the offered hand.
Julian’s eyes flickered with amusement, then slid slowly toward me, raking over my gown with bold, appraising insolence.
"And this must be the famous Sophie," Julian said, his voice dropping to a smooth, intimate purr. "The little maid who climbed into the master's bed and picked up his gun. You truly are as exquisite as the reports claimed."
Before Julian could even finish his sentence, Luca stepped halfway into his space, his posture radiating a sudden, suffocating violence that made the air between them crackle.
"Watch your tongue, cousin," Luca growled, the threat in his voice vibrating so deeply it caused a nearby couple to quickly step away. "Or I will tear it from your throat and leave it in that champagne glass."
Julian didn't flinch, but his eyes narrowed. "Always so vulgar, Luca. You inherited your father’s temper. But you lack his foresight."
Julian leaned in slightly, his smile turning razor-sharp. "You think you've secured your perimeter, cousin? You think this lovely little creature can protect everything you love?"
May you like
My fingers slipped subtly toward the clasp of my clutch. "Try us, Julian. See how far you get."
Julian chuckled softly, taking a slow sip of his champagne. "I don't need to try, Sophie. While you two are here playing royalty in front of the cameras... who is watching the west wing of the estate?"
