Chapter 5 - The Silk and Steel Gala
The Palazzo Reale was a breathtaking vision of neoclassical grandeur. High arched ceilings decorated with golden frescoes, massive crystal chandeliers, and marble staircases welcomed Milan’s elite. Flashbulbs popped continuously as photographers snapped photos of politicians, movie stars, and billionaires arriving in fleet after fleet of luxury vehicles.
A sleek silver Maybach pulled up to the red carpet.
The driver stepped out and opened the rear door.
Enzo Vieri stepped out first. He looked effortlessly regal in a custom black velvet tuxedo, his dark hair brushed back, his cold gray eyes sweeping the crowd with absolute authority. Photographers gasped, immediately recognizing the elusive, powerful figure of Milan’s underground king.
Then, Enzo turned and held out his hand toward the open door.
A leg wrapped in shimmering emerald silk stepped out, followed by a woman who instantly captured the breath of every person on the carpet.
Alessia stepped into the flashing lights.
She wore a breathtaking sleeveless emerald silk gown that hugged her curves flawlessly before cascading to the floor in a subtle train. Her dark hair was styled in an elegant, sophisticated updo, held in place by diamond pins. Around her neck sat a magnificent emerald and diamond necklace worth more than her former employer’s entire company—a personal loan from Enzo’s private vault.
Her skin glowed under the warm lights, and though her heart was pounding like a drum, she carried herself with the erect, proud posture of a queen.
Enzo smiled warmly, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow.
“You look magnificent, mia bella,” Enzo whispered into her ear as they walked up the marble steps, surrounded by the blinding flashes of cameras.
“I feel like an imposter,” Alessia murmured back through a perfectly practiced smile. “This necklace costs more than my entire neighborhood.”
“It is merely glass and metal compared to the woman wearing it,” Enzo replied sincerely. “Hold your head high, Alessia. You belong here more than any of these parasites.”
They entered the grand ballroom, where classical violin music drifted through the air and waiters in white gloves circulated with trays of vintage champagne.
As they moved through the crowd, heads turned. Whispers rippled through the room like wildfire. The sight of Don Vieri attending a public gala was rare enough, but the presence of the unknown, mesmerizing woman on his arm sent society gossips into a frenzy.
“There,” Alessia whispered subtly, nudging Enzo’s arm.
At the far end of the ballroom, sitting in a private velvet booth surrounded by four heavily armed bodyguards in suits, was Salvatore Moretti. He was an older, gaunt man with a cruel face and pockmarked skin, holding a cigar in one hand and a glass of scotch in the other. Beside him sat Baron Von Sachs, a chubby, nervous German financier holding a encrypted digital tablet.
“He sees us,” Enzo said softly as Salvatore’s eyes locked onto them from across the room.
Salvatore’s eyes widened in disbelief. He hadn't expected Enzo to survive the villa attack, let alone walk into a public gala with complete impunity.
“Stay close to Luca,” Enzo instructed quietly as the scar-faced lieutenant slipped into the crowd nearby, dressed in a sharp tuxedo with a concealed weapon. “I am going to pay my respects to Baron Von Sachs.”
“Enzo, be careful,” Alessia warned, her hand lingering on his arm.
Enzo kissed the back of her gloved hand gently. “Watch the master at work, Signorina.”
Enzo walked calmly across the ballroom floor, his presence clearing a path through the wealthy guests like a knife through butter.
Alessia watched from near a marble pillar, accepting a glass of champagne from a passing waiter to blend in. Her eyes darted around the room, analyzing every detail—just as she had spent years doing while cleaning corporate offices.
She noticed two men in dark suits standing near the VIP exit. They weren't watching the fashion models or the politicians. They were scanning the crowd, their hands resting inside their jacket pockets.
Mercenaries.
Alessia took a sip of her champagne, slowly shifting her position to get a better angle. She saw one of the mercenaries pull a small, black electronic device from his pocket and press a switch.
Suddenly, the ambient hum of the ballroom’s sound system produced a high-pitched feedback whine.
Alessia’s sharp eyes darted to the ceiling. The emergency fire sprinkler heads had small red LED lights blinking rapidly.
A signal jammer and a deliberate trigger for the fire suppression system, she realized instantly. They’re going to cause a panic, kill Enzo in the dark chaos, and escape through the VIP exit!
There was no time to reach Luca. There was no time to warn Enzo, who was now standing five feet from Salvatore Moretti, exchanging cold, pleasant formalities.
Alessia made her decision.
She set her champagne glass down on a side table, gathered the emerald silk skirt of her gown in one hand, and walked directly toward the two mercenaries near the VIP exit.
As she passed a waiter carrying a tray of ice-cold champagne, she deftly snatched a heavy glass decanter full of sparkling water.
She approached the main mercenary from behind, her heels clicking softly on the marble floor.
“Excuse me, Signor,” Alessia said in a sweet, airy voice.
May you like
The mercenary turned around, surprised by the sudden presence of the breathtaking woman in emerald silk. “Yes, Signorina?”
Before he could react, Alessia swung the heavy glass decanter with all the force in her body, smashing it directly against the side of his jaw.
