Chapter 7 - PLAYING WITH FIRE
"I am not wearing that."
I stood in the center of my bedroom, crossing my arms over my chest, glaring at the garment hanging from the closet door. It wasn't a dress; it was a weapon forged from midnight-blue silk and diamonds. It featured a plunging neckline, a slit that ran dangerously high up the thigh, and practically zero back.
Silas, who had delivered the box an hour ago, stood in the doorway looking deeply uncomfortable. "Boss said you have to wear it. It's a statement."
"The statement being what? That I forgot the rest of my clothes?"
"The statement," Dominic's voice cut through the room as he stepped past Silas, waving the giant away, "is that the Moretti family is untouchable, unbroken, and unafraid."
Dominic looked devastating. He wore a bespoke black tuxedo that fit his broad shoulders perfectly, the dark fabric making him look even more dangerous. The only hint of his injury was a slight stiffness in his posture.
Tonight was the annual Syndicate Gala—a masquerade ball held on neutral ground where the city's criminal elite gathered under a flag of temporary truce to flex their wealth and power. Skipping the event after the attack on the mansion would signal weakness. Dominic had to go, and to my absolute shock, he had ordered me to accompany him as his date.
"It's too much, Dominic," I said, gesturing to the dress. "I'm a nanny. A nurse. I don't belong at a mafia ball."
Dominic closed the door, trapping us in the intimate space of my room. He walked slowly toward me, his eyes dark and hungry. He stopped so close I could feel the heat radiating from his body, smelling his intoxicating scent of cedar and expensive cologne.
"Tonight, you are not a nanny," he murmured, reaching out to trace his knuckles lightly down my cheek. "Tonight, you are with me. You are mine. And I want every man in that room to know that if they even look at you too long, I will blind them."
A shiver ran down my spine, a potent mix of fear and undeniable arousal. "You're playing a dangerous game, Dominic. Parading me in front of the Falcones? What about Matteo?"
"Matteo is secured in the vault. Silas and my ten best men are with him. Nothing breathes on that floor without my permission." Dominic picked up the silk dress from the hanger. "Put it on, Elara. Let them see the woman who walked through fire and saved the Moretti heir."
Twenty minutes later, I stood in front of the full-length mirror, hardly recognizing myself. The dress clung to every curve, the silk sliding over my skin like water. Hair and makeup artists had swept my hair into an elegant updo and applied a dark, smoky eye that made me look dangerous. Dominic stepped behind me, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror. He clasped a heavy, blindingly expensive diamond necklace around my throat. It felt like a beautiful collar.
"Breathtaking," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to my bare shoulder.
The gala was held in the grand ballroom of the Drake Hotel, rented out entirely for the night. The opulence was nauseating. Chandeliers dripped with crystal, champagne flowed like rivers, and men in tailored suits stood in corners, trading whispers that likely dictated the fates of thousands. Everyone wore elegant masquerade masks. Mine was a delicate silver filigree; Dominic's was a stark, predatory black half-mask.
The moment we entered, the room went entirely silent.
Every eye turned to us. The tension was palpable, thick enough to choke on. Dominic placed his hand firmly on my lower back, his touch anchoring me. He didn't rush. He guided me down the grand staircase with the slow, deliberate pace of a king inspecting his domain.
"Smile, Elara," he murmured in my ear, his breath tickling my neck. "Show them you aren't afraid."
I forced the corners of my mouth up, lifting my chin. We navigated the floor, Dominic nodding to various Dons and underbosses. I could feel the weight of their stares, the silent calculations. They were trying to figure out who I was. The mysterious woman wearing Moretti diamonds.
Suddenly, the crowd parted. A man stepped into our path.
He was older, perhaps in his late fifties, with silver hair slicked back and a sharp, cruel face. He wore a gold mask, but his pale blue eyes were entirely visible, gleaming with malice.
"Dominic," the man said, spreading his arms in a mock gesture of warmth. "I am so pleased you could make it. I heard you had a little... pest problem at your estate recently. Termites, was it?"
Dominic’s grip on my waist tightened imperceptibly, but his face remained a mask of polite indifference. "Vincenzo. The pests were dealt with. Crushed underfoot, as usual."
Vincenzo Falcone. The man who ordered the hit on Matteo's mother. The man who tried to kill us three days ago. My heart pounded so hard I thought my ribs would crack.
Falcone’s eyes slid from Dominic to me. A slow, greasy smile spread across his face. "And who is this stunning creature? I didn't know you had replaced Sofia so quickly, Dominic. She has a much livelier look to her."
Before I could react, Dominic stepped smoothly between us, cutting off Falcone's line of sight. The air around Dominic turned frigid, heavy with lethal intent.
"She is entirely off-limits, Vincenzo," Dominic said, his voice dropping to a terrifying, deadly whisper. "Do not speak her name. Do not look at her. If your shadow crosses her path, I will burn your empire to the ground and dance in the ashes."
Falcone chuckled, though his eyes remained cold. "Such fire, Dominic. It will be your undoing. Enjoy the party." He stepped back, melting into the crowd.
"We need to leave," I whispered, my hands trembling. "He knows. He knows who I am."
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"We cannot run," Dominic said softly, pulling me toward the dance floor as an orchestra began a slow waltz. "We dance. We show them we are not broken."
He pulled me flush against his body. We moved in perfect synchronization, surrounded by our enemies. But as Dominic spun me across the floor, his eyes locked onto mine, burning with a possessive, consuming fire, I realized I wasn't afraid of Falcone anymore. I was terrified of how far Dominic would go, how much blood he would spill, to keep me safe.
