The phone in Sadi’s hand was dead, but the quiet, icy voice on the other end still echoed in her ears. “If anyone tries to come in, hide her. I am ten minutes away.”

The Sterling Lakefront Estate was a sprawling palace of glass and steel, glowing brightly against the dark backdrop of Lake Michigan.

Valet drivers in crisp uniforms parked million-dollar sports cars while wealthy politicians, high-society elites, and corrupt businessmen walked up the red carpet, sipping champagne under the flashing lights of local news cameras.

Inside the grand ballroom, Senator Richard Sterling stood near the ice sculpture, wearing a silver tux, shaking hands with potential donors. He was a silver-haired man with a fake, blinding smile and eyes as cold as a viper’s.

In the corner of the room, near the grand balcony, stood a tall figure in a tailored black tuxedo.

Dante Vance moved through the crowd like a phantom, a crystal glass of sparkling water in his hand. But he wasn't alone.

Walking beside him, her arm resting gracefully on his elbow, was Sadi.

She was unrecognizable. Elena had spent three hours getting her ready. She wore a stunning floor-length emerald green satin dress that hugged her curves perfectly, her dark hair styled in elegant waves falling over one shoulder. A diamond necklace—a Vance family heirloom worth a small fortune—sparkled against her neck.

She carried herself with incredible poise, her head held high, though her heart pounded like a drum beneath her ribs.

"Keep your chin up, my love," Dante whispered, leaning down as if whispering a sweet secret into her ear. "You look like royalty. Everyone in this room is trying to figure out who you are."

"I feel like a target," Sadi whispered back, her eyes scanning the room.

"You're not the target tonight," Dante said smoothly. "You're the judge."

Suddenly, the crowd parted as Senator Sterling himself walked toward them, accompanied by four heavy security guards wearing earpieces.

The Senator’s smile faded instantly when he recognized Dante. His eyes narrowed into slit-like glare.

"Vance," Senator Sterling spat, his voice low enough to avoid drawing the media's immediate attention. "You have incredible nerve showing your face in my house after what happened to my nephew."

"Good evening, Senator," Dante said calmly, taking a slow sip from his glass. "I brought a guest. I believe you’ve been looking for her."

Senator Sterling’s eyes flicked to Sadi. A look of sudden, furious realization crossed his face.

"The waitress," Sterling hissed, his hands clenching into fists. "You brought the street trash who crippled my nephew into my gala?"

"Careful, Richard," Dante’s voice dropped into an icy register that made the Senator’s guards visibly stiffen. "Speak to my woman like that again, and you won't leave this room alive."