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Chapter 5 - The Gala of Lies

The grand ballroom of the luxury Moretti Plaza Hotel in downtown Boston was bathed in glittering gold light. Crystal chandeliers hung from vaulted ceilings, reflecting off white marble floors and polished mahogany bars.

Over two hundred elite guests—high-society politicians, corrupt judges, wealthy investors, and hardened mob capos in expensive tuxedos—milled about, sipping vintage champagne while classical violin music floated through the air.

In the center of the room stood Marco Moretti.

At thirty-five, Marco was slick, arrogant, and ruthless. Dressed in a double-breasted velvet tuxedo, he moved through the crowd like a king accepting homage, shaking hands and accepting quiet congratulations from loyal lieutenants.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Marco announced, stepping onto the raised platform at the front of the room, tapping his microphone with a silver ring. "May I have your attention, please."

The room fell silent. All eyes turned toward the stage.

"As many of you know," Marco spoke, his voice dripping with rehearsed sorrow, "my beloved cousin, Adrian Moretti, suffered catastrophic injuries during a tragic vehicular accident last week. Despite the finest medical care, I regret to inform you that Adrian passed away quietly early yesterday morning."

A collective gasp rippled through the hall. Several capos exchanged dark, knowing looks.

"It is a heartbreaking loss for our family," Marco continued, dabbing at his eye with a silk handkerchief. "But the Moretti empire cannot stand leaderless. Tonight, as per family tradition, the council will vote to confirm a new Don to lead us into a new era of prosperity."

In the back corridor behind the ballroom kitchens, Harper moved silently through the service hallway.

She wore a sleek black hotel staff uniform, her hair tied back in a neat bun, pushing a large silver linen cart lined with fresh tablecloths. Hidden beneath the bottom shelf of the cart was a high-tech electronic override unit Lorenzo had given her.

Heart pounding in her chest, Harper reached the private service door leading to the executive penthouse elevator. Two heavy-set guards in dark suits stood outside the door, checking guest passes.

"Hey, miss," one of the guards barked, stepping into her path. "This corridor is restricted tonight. Executive staff only."

Harper put on a nervous, flustered smile, adjusting her name tag. "I’m so sorry, sir! Mr. Marco’s personal assistant called down to the housekeeping department ten minutes ago. He said there was a spill in the penthouse lounge that needed to be cleaned before the council vote."

The guard frowned, pulling out his walkie-talkie. "I didn't get any call from the assistant—"

Before he could press the call button, Harper reached into her apron, pulled out a small canister of high-grade medical nerve sedative spray, and sprayed it directly into the guard's face.

The man gasped, his eyes rolling back as he crumpled instantly to the floor.

The second guard reached for his sidearm, but Harper kicked the silver linen cart with all her strength, slamming the heavy metal frame directly into his knees. As he stumbled backward, a dark figure materialized from the shadows behind him like a strike of lightning.

Lorenzo grabbed the guard in a sleeper hold, cutting off his airway until the man went limp in his arms.

"Nice work, Doctor Lane," Lorenzo whispered, dragging the two unconscious guards into a nearby linen closet.

Harper quickly pulled the electronic override unit from the cart and plugged it into the elevator's master control panel. The screen flickered green, and the elevator doors slid open silently.

Adrian stepped out of the shadows at the end of the hall.

He looked breathtaking. Dressed in a bespoke black tuxedo with a crisp white shirt and a silk bow tie, his dark hair combed back, he looked every bit the rightful king of the Moretti dynasty.

He walked over to Harper, taking her face in his hands, his thumb gently caressing her cheek. "You were incredible."

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"Just get that master drive," Harper smiled softly, her heart soaring at his praise. "I'll hold the elevator control panel here."

"Three minutes," Adrian promised, stepping into the private elevator as the doors closed.

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