I silently warned the most feared mafia boss in New York that his drink had been poisoned, knowing both crime families would kill me if anyone noticed. He caught my tiny signal in an instant, and the look he gave me made it clear my life would never belong to me again.

Three days passed in a strange, tense routine.

I wasn't permitted to leave the estate, but I was allowed to roam the main floor and the library. Dominic was gone most of the day, returning late at night smelling of rain and gunpowder. Whenever he came back, he would seek me out, checking on me with a quiet, intense scrutiny that made my pulse race.

On the fourth evening, Mrs. Gable brought a long black garment bag into my room.

Inside was a breath-taking floor-length gown made of deep midnight-blue silk, accompanied by a silver Venetian lace mask.

"Mr. Russo requires your presence tonight," she stated. "A car leaves at eight."

"Where are we going?"

"The Plaza," she said simply. "The Annual Charity Gala."

When I walked down the grand staircase at quarter to eight, Dominic was waiting in the foyer. He wore a custom black tuxedo that made his broad frame look impossibly regal. His dark hair was brushed back, and his jaw was cleanly shaved.

When his eyes fell on me, he stopped mid-sentence with Leo. His gaze swept down the silk gown, tracing the curve of my waist, before returning to my eyes behind the lace mask.

For a second, the cold, calculated crime boss vanished, replaced by a man looking at a woman who took his breath away.

"You look exquisite," he said softly, offering his arm.

"Is this another test?" I asked, slipping my hand into the crook of his elbow.

"Tonight is war," Dominic replied as we walked toward the waiting limousine. "Sal Castellano will be there. The entire Commission will be there. Sal thinks you're dead or hidden in a basement. When he sees you on my arm, he will know his plot failed completely."

"You're using me as bait," I said, my voice steady despite the flutter in my chest.

"I'm using you as a shield," Dominic corrected, opening the car door himself. "And a message. Sal tried to kill me with poison. I am going to destroy him with elegance."

The Plaza Hotel was a glittering palace of crystal chandeliers, champagne fountains, and high-society elite. Politicians, CEO's, and silver-screen celebrities mingled effortlessly with the high-ranking mobsters who funded their campaigns and businesses.

As Dominic entered the ballroom with me on his arm, the room went quiet once again.

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Men bowed their heads slightly as Dominic passed; women watched him with hungry, cautious eyes. But most of all, everyone stared at me. The unknown girl in midnight blue, holding the arm of New York's most ruthless Don.

Across the room, standing near a towering ice sculpture, was Sal Castellano.

He was a thick, silver-haired man in his late fifties, surrounded by four heavy-set bodyguards. When his eyes locked onto Dominic, a tight, artificial smile formed on his lips. But when his gaze shifted to me, his smile died instantly. His face turned the color of spoiled milk.

"Dominic," Sal hailed us, stepping forward with a glass of prosecco. "I didn't expect to see you tonight. I heard you had... stomach trouble at the Onyx Room."

Dominic stopped three feet from Sal, his grip on my arm remaining firm and reassuring.

"My stomach is fine, Sal," Dominic said, his tone casual, almost conversational. "Though the service was terrible. A bad drink was served. Fortunately, my new personal assistant noticed the flaw before I took a sip."

Sal's eyes darted to me, burning with lethal promise. "Assistant? I didn't know you took on stray staff, Russo. She looks familiar."

"Her name is Lydia Bennett," Dominic said loudly enough for the surrounding mob bosses to hear. "She is under the personal protection of the Russo family. Any debt, any claim, or any threat made against her is considered a direct declaration of war against me."

Sal's jaw clenched so hard a vein bulged on his temple. "Arthur Bennett owes my family—"

"Arthur Bennett owes nobody," Dominic interrupted coldly. "I bought his paper this morning. All of it. Her father's debts are cleared, Sal. Which means you have no reason to ever speak her name again."

I stared at Dominic in total shock. He had bought my father's debt? He had paid half a million dollars to strip Castellano of his claim over me?