Chapter 6 - The Charity Gala
To assert dominance and flush out the conspirators, Lorenzo hosted Chicago's elite at the annual Drake Hotel Charity Gala. Elena accompanied him wearing a midnight-crimson silk gown, drawing every eye in the grand ballroom.
The evening proceeded smoothly until Viktor Volkov—the arrogant heir to the Russian syndicate—approached their table with a razor-thin smile.
"Moretti," Viktor drawled, his eyes trailing over Elena with casual condescension. "I see you've brought a new ornament tonight. Pretty, but fragile."
Lorenzo slid an arm around Elena’s waist, pulling her flush against his side in an unyielding statement of ownership. "Watch your step, Viktor. The state police just seized your container ship at Dock 4. You might want to invest in better lawyers."
Viktor’s smile vanished. Leaning closer while Lorenzo conversed with a visiting senator, he hissed in Elena’s ear, "You're standing next to a monster, sweet girl. Do you have any idea what he does to people who step out of line?"
May you like
Elena held her breath, raised her chin, and looked him dead in the eye. "At least he doesn't hide behind cheap threats."
Before Viktor could respond, the hall’s main power cut out. Emergency alarms blared, plunging the ballroom into utter chaos.
