Chapter 5 - Emerald and Ice
The Grand Ballroom of the Drake Hotel was a glittering palace of crystal chandeliers, gold leaf, and whispered malice.
When Elena Reyes stepped out of Dante’s town car and walked up the red-carpeted steps, the murmurs among the city’s elite started instantly. She wore her mother’s emerald-silk gown—cut with timeless elegance, clinging to her slim frame without a single ounce of vulgarity. Her dark hair was styled in soft waves framing her face, and her green eyes sparkled with a sharp, intelligent defiance that no designer jewelry could buy.
And walking beside her was Adrian Moretti.
He wore a tailored black tuxedo that made him look less like a shipping executive and more like an apex predator who had temporarily agreed to wear human clothes for the evening. His hand rested lightly, protectively at the small of her back as they navigated the crowded room.
Whispers rippled through the tables.
Isn't that the secretary?*
Where is Camille?*
Who is the woman on his arm? She looks dangerous.*
They walked toward the main VIP table, where senior city aldermen and rival shipping magnates sat sipping champagne. Among them sat Richard Bellamy—Camille’s father. His face turned the color of old parchment the moment he saw Adrian and Elena approaching.
"Adrian," Bellamy forced out, standing up from his chair, his hands gripping the edge of the table hard enough to turn his knuckles white. "I didn't realize you were bringing... guest-star labor to a charity event."
Adrian didn't blink. He pulled out a velvet-upholstered chair for Elena, waited for her to sit down with absolute, flawless grace, and then took his own seat beside her.
"Richard," Adrian said mildly, resting his forearms on the table. "Allow me to introduce Elena Reyes. My chief of operations, and my partner for the evening."
Bellamy's eyes narrowed into venomous slits. "Partner. That's an interesting word for a girl who was scrubbing coffee off the floor three weeks ago."
Elena didn't cower. She picked up her crystal water glass, took a calm sip, and looked straight across the table into Bellamy's panicked eyes.
"Mr. Bellamy," Elena said, her voice clear, melodic, and carrying effortlessly across the quieted table. "Given that your company's third-quarter audits are currently being reviewed by federal investigators for misallocated port subsidies, I would worry less about my employment status and more about whether your Swiss bank accounts will still be accessible by Monday morning."
The table went dead silent.
May you like
Bellamy’s face drained of all color. He stammered, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. "You—you little bitch, you don't know anything about—"
"She knows everything," Adrian interrupted, his voice dropping into that terrifying, velvet whisper that had ended his engagement. He leaned forward, locking his pale gray eyes onto Bellamy's. "And if you or any of your associates ever look in her direction again, I won't just let the feds handle you. I'll handle you myself."
