Chapter 3 - Nine Forty-Seven
The Meridian Winter Gala was held inside the Grand Crystal Ballroom of the Drake Hotel—a soaring, gilded space decorated with antique chandeliers, white roses, and marble statues.
At 9:40 PM, Dominic Vale was standing near the grand champagne pyramid, feeling like the master of the universe.
Beside him stood Vanessa Quinn, striking in a bright scarlet sequined gown that drew eyes from every corner of the room. She was holding a glass of Dom Pérignon, laughing loudly at a joke made by Arthur Sterling, the chief commissioner of the Port of Chicago.
“Dominic, my boy,” Sterling said, clapping Dominic on the shoulder. “I hear you’re bidding on the South Terminal expansion next week. Bold move. That’s an eighty-million-dollar project.”
“Vale Holdings is ready for it, Arthur,” Dominic boasted, taking a sip of his bourbon. “We’re streamlining our leadership. Bringing in fresh energy. Vanessa here is going to oversee our public relations for the entire harbor initiative.”
Several old-money guests nearby exchanged subtle, knowing glances. Everyone in Chicago knew who Evelyn was. Everyone knew she had stood beside Dominic for eight years while he built his company from a struggling freight business into a regional power. Seeing him parade his young publicist in a scarlet dress while his wife was nowhere to be seen was a move that smelled of crude arrogance.
Dominic didn't care. He was intoxicated by his own momentum.
Then, precisely at 9:47 PM, the massive double doors at the entrance of the ballroom groaned open.
The hum of five hundred high-society voices began to quiet down, starting at the foyer and rippling rapidly across the polished parquet floor like a falling line of dominoes.
Dominic frowned, turning his head toward the entrance. “What is going on?”
The heavy double doors swung fully open, and two tall, broad-shouldered security guards in immaculate suits stepped aside.
A woman walked into the room.
Dominic’s glass slipped an inch in his fingers, the ice clinking against the crystal.
She was wearing a breathtaking black velvet gown covered in micro-diamonds that caught the light of every chandelier in the hall. The Tahitian pearl collar around her neck blazed with a raw emerald the size of a pigeon’s egg. Her posture was regal, absolute, and completely terrifying.
It was Evelyn.
Dominic’s breath caught in his throat. He had never seen her like this. In eight years of marriage, he had dictated what she wore, how she styled her hair, and where she walked. Tonight, she looked like a queen stepping onto a battlefield she had already won.
But before Dominic’s brain could fully digest his wife’s transformation, the man stepping into the ballroom beside her caused the color to completely drain from Dominic’s face.
Gabriel Cross.
The entire ballroom went dead silent. The string quartet near the balcony stopped playing mid-measure.
Gabriel Cross did not attend public galas. He did not do photo opportunities. He operated in the high-level shadows of international maritime trade, federal politics, and syndicate law. Men worth hundreds of millions bowed their heads when Gabriel walked into a room.
And Gabriel was walking beside Evelyn.
Not behind her. Not ahead of her. He was walking beside her, his gloved hand lightly supporting her elbow, his gray eyes sweeping over the crowd like a wolf inspecting a flock of sheep.
“Is that... Gabriel Cross?” Commissioner Sterling gasped beside Dominic, his voice trembling slightly. “What is he doing here? Who is that woman with him?”
Dominic couldn't speak. His throat felt as though it had been filled with sand.
Evelyn walked straight through the center of the ballroom, the crowd parting effortlessly before her and Gabriel. She didn't look at the decor. She didn't look at the socialites.
Her gray-green eyes were locked directly onto Dominic Vale.
When they reached the center floor, five feet from where Dominic and Vanessa stood, Evelyn stopped.
Dominic swallowed hard, trying desperately to regain his composure in front of the city's most powerful figures.
“Evelyn?” Dominic managed to say, his voice lacking its usual thunderous authority. “What... what is the meaning of this? What are you doing here with Mr. Cross?”
Evelyn looked at him, then let her gaze flick casually down to Vanessa’s bright scarlet dress, before returning to Dominic’s pale face.
May you like
She offered him a small, stunning, completely heartless smile.
“You told me at seven-twelve that this life requires a certain kind of person, Dominic,” Evelyn said, her voice carrying clearly across the silent ballroom. “I just came to introduce you to my brother.”
