Chapter 4 - The Poisoned Engagement
The following evening, the Grand Ballroom of the Romano estate was transformed into a sea of black ties, diamond necklaces, and sparkling champagne. Over three hundred elite guests—corrupt politicians, high-ranking syndicate bosses, foreign investors, and high-society socialites—filled the cavernous space.
Standing near the grand ice sculpture in the center of the room was Celeste Vane. She looked breathtaking in a silver silk gown that clung to her figure, a multi-carat diamond necklace glittering around her throat. She held a glass of expensive champagne, laughing loudly with the wives of two city councilmen.
In the shadows near the service doors, Mara Bellini stood wearing her spotless black housekeeper dress and crisp white apron. She carried a silver tray lined with fresh champagne flutes, keeping her head low and her eyes fixed firmly on the carpet. She desperately wanted to avoid Celeste, but the head steward had assigned her to the main floor for the evening.
"More champagne here," Celeste’s sharp, demanding voice cut through the music.
Mara stiffened. She forced a polite, neutral expression onto her face, lifted the silver tray, and approached Celeste’s group. "Good evening, Miss Vane. Champagne?"
Celeste turned around, her smile evaporating instantly when her eyes landed on Mara. A cold, arrogant sneer twisted her crimson lips. "You," Celeste murmured softly enough so the councilmen’s wives couldn't hear. "I thought I told the manager to keep you in the basement laundry tonight. Your pathetic face is ruining my aesthetic."
"I am simply following the head steward's orders, ma'am," Mara whispered quietly, holding the tray steady.
Celeste took a glass from the tray, took a small sip, and then intentionally tilted her hand, spilling the ice-cold champagne directly over the front of Mara’s clean apron and dress.
"Oh, look at that. How clumsy of me," Celeste mocked quietly, her eyes burning with malice. "You really are useless, aren't you? Clean yourself up before you embarrass the entire estate."
Mara felt the cold liquid soak through her dress, sticking to her skin. The degradation burned hotter than the physical cold. "Yes, ma'am," she whispered, turning to retreat toward the service hallway.
"Hold on," a deep, commanding voice boomed through the immediate vicinity.
The string quartet playing near the stage suddenly stumbled over their notes as Dante Romano walked out of the VIP lounge. He was dressed in a tailored black tuxedo, looking impeccably handsome and undeniably dangerous. Every conversation within twenty feet died instantly.
Celeste immediately wiped the sneer from her face, adjusting her expression into one of helpless innocence as Dante approached. "Darling! There you are. This clumsy maid just spilled champagne near my gown. I was just advising her to be more careful."
Dante didn't even glance at Celeste. His intense grey eyes were fixed entirely on Mara, who stood trembling with a ruined apron, her head bowed in shame.
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Dante reached out, caught the edge of the silver tray in Mara’s hands, and calmly took it from her, placing it on a nearby table. Then, in front of three hundred jaw-dropped guests, Dante Romano pulled a black silk pocket square from his jacket and began gently dabbing the damp fabric of Mara’s apron.
The ballroom fell into dead, suffocating silence.
