Chapter 6 - The Transformation
At 7:00 p.m., the presidential suite on the top floor of the Drake Hotel was a hive of quiet activity.
Maya stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror, staring at her reflection in utter disbelief.
She was no longer wearing her simple blue cotton medical scrubs or practical rubber-soled shoes. Lorenzo had sent his private Italian stylists to prepare her for the Commission summit.
She wore a breathtaking, custom-tailored floor-length gown of deep emerald velvet that hugged her slender curves perfectly. The dress featured a sleek off-the-shoulder neckline, balanced by a modest, regal train. Her dark hair was styled in elegant, sweeping waves, and around her neck rested a vintage platinum necklace encrusted with black diamonds—a Bolaro family heirloom.
The door to the suite opened. Lorenzo walked in.
He wore a bespoke black tuxedo with a crisp white shirt and a silk bow tie. He looked every bit the powerful, terrifying King of Chicago’s underworld.
When his eyes landed on Maya, he stopped dead in his tracks.
For several seconds, the man who had faced down hit squads without flinching couldn't speak a single word. His dark eyes swept over her with an intensity that made Maya’s breath catch in her throat.
"Maya..." Lorenzo murmured, his voice low and raspy. "You are... breathtaking."
Maya blushed slightly, adjusting the platinum necklace. "I feel like an imposter, Lorenzo. I’m a nurse from Boston, not a mafia princess."
Lorenzo walked over to her, his polished leather shoes silent against the thick carpet. He stopped right in front of her, reaching out to gently touch the edge of her velvet sleeve.
"You are no imposter," Lorenzo said softly, looking deeply into her gray eyes. "A princess relies on a crown to command respect. You saved my bloodline with your brilliant mind and your courage. Tonight, you walk into that room not as my employee... but as my equal."
He offered his arm to her.
May you like
Maya looked at his strong forearm, then up at his handsome, fierce face. She felt a wave of absolute confidence wash over her. She slid her arm through his, holding her head high.
"Let's go end this, Don Bolaro," she whispered.
