Chapter 4 - THE RED SILK
The night of the Valente Gala, the grand ballroom of the Harbor View Hotel was a sea of glittering crystal chandeliers, men in dark tuxedos, and women draped in diamonds.
In the private suite upstairs, Maya stood in front of a full-length gilded mirror, her heart hammering like a trapped bird.
The woman looking back at her didn't look like the auditor from Vanguard Financial.
She was wearing a custom-designed gown of deep crimson silk. The dress featured a structured corset bodice that hugged her waist, while the rich, flowing fabric draped elegantly over her hips, cascading down to the floor in heavy, shimmering folds. The off-the-shoulder neckline framed her collarbones, and her dark auburn hair was styled in soft, glamorous Hollywood waves pinned back with sapphire clips.
She wasn't hidden. She was radiant.
"Breathtaking," a voice purred from the doorway.
Maya turned to see Lorenzo standing there. He wore a tailored velvet tuxedo that made him look impossibly handsome and terrifyingly powerful.
He walked over to her, his eyes dark with an intense, unvarnished desire that sent a tremor straight to her core. He didn't look at her body as something to be tolerated; he looked at her like she was the most exquisite masterpiece ever created.
"I feel... exposed," Maya whispered, her hands trembling as she tried to smooth down the front of the dress.
Lorenzo stepped up behind her in the mirror, placing his large, warm hands over her waist, pulling her back against his chest.
"You are a queen, Maya," he whispered into the crook of her neck, his breath warm against her skin. "Never apologize for your presence."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a velvet box. Inside rested a heavy platinum necklace encrusted with tear-drop diamonds and a massive 50-carat crimson ruby that matched her dress perfectly.
He fastened it around her throat, his fingers lingering on her skin.
"Now," Lorenzo murmured, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "Let's go show my uncle who really runs this city."
Downstairs, the chatter in the ballroom died down the instant the grand double doors opened.
Lorenzo Valente entered the room, but he wasn't alone. On his arm walked a stunning, full-figured goddess in red silk, carrying herself with an effortless grace that held the entire room spellbound.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd of mob bosses, politicians, and socialites.
Who is she? Where did Lorenzo find her? Look at the ruby on her neck!
Maya held her head high, focusing on the solid, comforting strength of Lorenzo's arm beneath her hand.
Near the champagne fountain stood Domenico Valente—a severe, silver-haired man in his late fifties, his face contorted into a mask of polite smile hiding bitter hatred. Beside him stood Greg Peterson, Maya's sweat-drenched supervisor from Vanguard Financial.
When Greg caught sight of Maya, his champagne glass nearly slipped from his fingers. His face turned gray as paper.
"Lorenzo," Domenico greeted smoothly, stepping forward with a glass of red wine. "I didn't expect you to bring a guest tonight. Who is this lovely young lady?"
Lorenzo smiled—a sharp, wolfish grin that didn't reach his cold blue eyes.
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"This is Maya Gallagher," Lorenzo announced, his voice carrying effortlessly across the silent ballroom. "My senior financial officer. And the woman who just finished auditing Apex Maritime Logistics."
Domenico froze, the color slowly draining from his weathered face.
