Chapter 9 - The Gala
"The trap is set," Alessandro announced two days later, tossing a thick, gold-embossed envelope onto my desk.
I picked it up. It was an invitation to the Mayor’s Annual Charity Gala at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
"Senator Cole is attending," Alessandro explained, pouring himself a coffee. "His son has disappeared. His daughter is disgraced. His offshore accounts are frozen. He is desperate. He needs public appearances to show his investors and political allies that the Cole family is not collapsing."
"And you're going?" I asked.
"We are going," he corrected.
I choked on my own spit. "We? Alessandro, I can't go to the Met Gala. I'm a former housekeeper. I'll stick out like a sore thumb among the city's elite."
"You are my right hand," Alessandro said firmly, walking around the desk and pulling my chair out, forcing me to stand. "You are the woman who exposed their lies. Senator Cole thinks you are a weak, frightened little mouse who got lucky. Tonight, we show him exactly who you are."
He snapped his fingers. The heavy doors to the library opened, and a team of four stylists, clutching garment bags and makeup kits, marched in.
"Make her look like royalty," Alessandro ordered them.
Three hours later, I didn't recognize the woman in the mirror.
My hair was swept up into a sleek, elegant chignon. My makeup was flawless, highlighting the sharp angles of my cheekbones and turning my eyes into dark, smoldering jewels.
But the dress was the masterpiece. It was a custom Valentino gown. Deep, blood-red silk that clung to my curves like a second skin, featuring a plunging neckline and a daring slit up the thigh. It was aggressive, beautiful, and completely unapologetic. Around my neck rested a heavy diamond collar that cost more than an entire city block.
When I stepped out into the living room, Alessandro was waiting.
He wore a classic black tuxedo that tailored perfectly to his broad shoulders. When he saw me, he froze. The glass of whiskey in his hand tilted slightly. His eyes darkened, raking over every inch of me with a fierce, burning hunger that made my knees weak.
"You look..." he started, his voice uncharacteristically hoarse. He cleared his throat, setting the glass down. "You look dangerous, Elena."
"I feel like an imposter," I admitted, my hands trembling.
Alessandro crossed the room, taking my trembling hands in his. He lifted my right hand, pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles.
"There are no imposters tonight. Only predators and prey. Walk with your head high. You belong beside me."
The arrival at the Met was a blur of flashing cameras and shouting reporters. As Alessandro stepped out of the Maybach and offered me his hand, the crowd went wild. The King of New York and his mysterious new companion.
We walked up the iconic carpeted steps, his hand resting firmly on the small of my back, sending waves of heat through my body.
Inside, the gala was a dazzling display of wealth and power. Waiters circulated with champagne. A symphony orchestra played softly in the background. As we entered the main hall, beneath the shadow of ancient Egyptian artifacts, the room parted for us. Whispers erupted. Eyes followed our every move.
And standing near the center of the room, looking pale and haggard, was Senator Cole. Next to him stood Vanessa, wearing a desperate smile that looked like it had been glued onto her face.
Alessandro didn't hesitate. He guided me directly toward them.
Senator Cole’s eyes widened in panic as we approached. Vanessa’s face drained of color as her gaze locked onto me, taking in the red silk, the diamonds, the way Alessandro held me.
"Good evening, Senator," Alessandro said smoothly. "Vanessa."
"Moretti," Cole choked out. "You have a lot of nerve showing your face here after what you did to my son."
"Your son made his choices," Alessandro replied, his voice chillingly calm. "I merely expedited the consequences. I believe you know my associate, Elena?"
Vanessa glared at me, pure venom in her eyes. "A maid in a designer dress is still just a maid. You think you’ve won, you filthy little rat? You think he actually cares about you?"
Before I could process the insult, Alessandro’s hand tightened on my waist.
"Address her with respect, Vanessa," Alessandro’s voice was a low, lethal hum that caused the surrounding guests to step back in fear. "Or I will have my men drag you out of this museum by your hair."
"You ruined my life!" Vanessa hissed, tears springing to her eyes. "I was going to be your wife!"
"You were going to be a parasite," Alessandro corrected coldly. "Elena saved my family. You tried to poison it." He turned to Senator Cole. "I want your resignation on the governor's desk by tomorrow morning. If it isn't, the ledgers proving you smuggled weapons through my city go to the feds. Enjoy your evening."
May you like
Alessandro turned away, leading me toward the VIP terrace. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it would break my ribs. I had just stood toe-to-toe with the elite, and I hadn't shattered.
But the night wasn't over yet.
