Chapter 10 - THE GALA AT THE PLAZA
|
The Grand Ballroom of the Plaza Hotel glittered in gold leaf, crystal chandeliers, and dangerous ambition.
Over four hundred high-ranking mafia members, corrupt senators, and socialite heiresses filled the floor.
At nine o'clock sharp, the heavy oak doors opened, and the master of ceremonies cleared his throat into the microphone.
"Mr. Declan Knox."
The entire room fell dead silent.
I stepped onto the balcony landing, wearing a bespoke midnight-black tuxedo that emphasized my broad shoulders and tall frame.
On my arm was Clary Davies.
A collective gasp echoed across the floor.
She wore a breathtaking emerald-green silk gown that clung perfectly to her curves before cascading into a dramatic floor-length train.
Around her slender neck rested the Knox family heirloom—a three-million-dollar necklace of raw emeralds and flawless diamonds.
Her brown hair was swept into an intricate updo, exposing the graceful line of her neck and throat.
She didn't look like a terrified maid from the Eastside slums.
She looked like an empress who commanded empires with a single glance.
Don Moretti stood near the central fountain beside his spoiled, sneering daughter, Elena.
Elena's eyes burned with vicious jealousy as every prominent bachelor in the ballroom stared at Clary in stunned admiration.
"Declan!" Moretti called out, laughing loudly to mask the unease in his eyes.
"You really brought her!"
"I must congratulate you on your charity work."
"Taking a girl off her knees scrubbing toilets and putting diamonds on her neck must feel very heroic."
The crowd chuckled nervously, waiting to see how I would respond to the blatant insult.
Before I could draw my weapon, Clary took a graceful step forward onto the grand staircase.
"Don Moretti," her clear, musical voice resonated across the vast room, commanding instant silence.
"A woman on her knees working with honest hands is far more honorable than an old man standing tall on stolen blood."
The entire ballroom held its breath.
Moretti's smile vanished completely, replaced by pure, murderous rage.
I looked down at Clary, pride bursting through my chest so violently I nearly laughed out loud.
May you like
She wasn't just a survivor.
She was born to rule beside me.
