Chapter 6 - An Offer of War
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By noon, Dante's penthouse had transformed into a war room.
Maps of the Chicago riverfront, industrial docklands, and Calumet harbor covered the long glass dining table.
Gabriel and four senior tactical lieutenants stood around the perimeter, reviewing satellite imagery on encrypted tablets.
Yet in the center of the bustling room, Dante stood motionless, watching me as I stared out at the gray waters of Lake Michigan.
"Nora," Dante called out softly.
I turned around.
"You've been quiet for two hours."
"I'm processing twenty-five years of lies," I replied, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Yesterday morning, I was a broke waitress with forty-two dollars, terrified of a man who told me I was losing my mind."
"Today, I am holding the evidence that can destroy a United States Senator, and my mother is a political prisoner."
"It's a lot to absorb in twenty-four hours."
Dante walked over to me, stopping just outside my personal space.
He reached into his pocket and placed a sleek black velvet box on the small table beside me.
"What is this?" I asked, frowning slightly.
"A wardrobe," Dante replied smoothly.
"And armor."
I opened the box.
Inside rested a breathtaking platinum card with my name embossed in crisp silver lettering: Nora Bennett.
"I don't need your money, Dante."
"That isn't charity, Nora," Dante said, his voice dropping into that quiet, commanding tone that brooked no argument.
"Tonight is the annual Northbridge Philanthropic Gala at the Chicago Symphony Center."
"Senator Hale and Victor Sloane are hosting five hundred of the city's most influential politicians, judges, and corporate titans."
"Cameron is scheduled to give the opening keynote address announcing his campaign for the state senate."
My eyes widened as the realization struck me.
"They think I'm hiding in a basement somewhere, sobbing and terrified."
"Precisely," Dante said, a predatory glint appearing in his dark eyes.
"They expect you to behave like a victim."
"Instead, you are going to walk into their gala on my arm."
"You are going to look Cameron Hale dead in the eye and show him that his pet bird has sharp talons."
A flutter of nervous adrenaline surged through my veins.
"Why take such a huge public risk?"
"Because sunlight is the most lethal disinfectant," Dante answered, stepping closer until I could feel the heat radiating from his chest.
"If Cameron tries to use his corrupt police contacts in the dark, he has an advantage."
"If every camera in the state sees you standing with the Valenti family, touching you becomes political and physical suicide."
"He won't dare lay a finger on you in a room filled with journalists."
I looked down at the sleek platinum card in the velvet box.
For two years, Cameron had controlled every dime I spent, forcing me to hand over receipts for grocery store milk and bus passes.
He had made me feel small, impoverished, and utterly insignificant.
"Isabella is waiting in the guest suite," Dante added, watching my expression shift.
"She has brought three stylists, two jewelers, and a selection of evening gowns."
"You don't have to do this, Nora."
"You can stay here where it's safe."
"The choice is entirely yours."
I looked up into Dante's dark, unwavering eyes.
"A choice," I echoed softly.
"Always," Dante promised.
I straightened my shoulders, lifting my chin with a newfound sense of defiance.
"Tell Isabella to bring the red dress."
Two hours later, I walked out of the guest suite.
The cheap black skirt and torn blouse were gone.
In their place was an emerald green silk gown that hugged every curve of my body before cascading to the floor in a sleek, elegant train.
My fiery red hair had been styled into loose, glamorous waves that cascaded over my bare shoulders.
Around my neck hung a delicate diamond collar that caught the light like shattered starlight.
Beside it, tucked discreetly against my collarbone, remained the little silver bird.
Dante was standing near the fireplace, adjusting his cufflinks.
When he heard the click of my heels against the hardwood floor, he turned.
The most dangerous man in Chicago went completely, utterly motionless.
His dark eyes swept slowly from the crown of my head down to the hem of my emerald gown, and for the first time since I had met him, his carefully guarded breath hitched in his throat.
"Well?" I asked, feeling a blush warm my cheeks.
"Will this do for a declaration of war?"
Dante walked toward me with the graceful, predatory stride of a panther.
He stopped inches away, his gaze burning with open admiration and lethal pride.
May you like
"Nora," he murmured, his deep voice sending a pleasant shiver down my spine.
"You are going to burn their entire world to the ground."
