Chapter 3 - The Crimson Gala & The Traitor Unmasked
Three weeks passed in a blur of intense tactical security and aggressive medical therapy.
Under Dr. Vance’s care, the tumor in Lena’s chest had shrunk dramatically. Her strength was returning, though her body was lean and worn. Meanwhile, Victor Rosetti had gone into hiding somewhere within Chicago's criminal underground, fleeing the estate on the night his plot was exposed.
To re-establish order and prove to the national syndicates that the Rosetti family remained unbroken, Dominic scheduled the annual Winter Charity Gala at the estate—a grand gathering of politicians, billionaires, and powerful underground lords.
"You don't have to attend," Dominic told Lena as they stood in his vast library hours before the event. He was adjusting his black bowtie in the mirror.
"I want to," Lena said, stepping into the room.
Dominic turned, and his breath caught.
Lena wore an emerald velvet evening gown tailored specifically for her by Dominic’s private designer. The deep green fabric complemented her fair skin and dark hair, covering her treatment ports gracefully. Though simple, she radiated a breathtaking, quiet resilience that outshone any jewel in the house.
Dominic walked across the room, stopping inches from her. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a velvet box. Inside lay a diamond necklace featuring a small, brilliant emerald wolf charm.
"This belonged to my mother," Dominic said softly. "It is worn only by the matriarch of this house."
Lena looked up, her heart fluttering violently. "Dominic... I’m just a waitress from Ashmont. I can't wear this."
"You are the shield of this family, Lena," Dominic said, his voice deep and dark with undeniable affection. He stepped behind her, unclasping the necklace, his warm fingers brushing against her neck as he fastened it around her throat. "In my eyes, you are higher than any queen in this city."
Downstairs, the grand ballroom was filled with music, sparkling champagne, and over three hundred elite guests.
Lena walked beside Dominic, her hand resting comfortably on his forearm. Whispers erupted throughout the room as the powerful guests stared at the unknown woman walking beside the formidable Mafia kingpin.
"Look at her," whispered a high-society woman nearby. "Who is she? She wears the Rosetti wolf..."
Suddenly, the heavy glass doors leading to the grand terrace shattered inward.
Screams echoed across the ballroom as heavily armed men in black tactical gear burst into the hall, throwing flashbang grenades. Smoke filled the air, blinding the guests as panic broke out.
"Get down!" Dominic roared, pulling Lena behind a reinforced marble pillar, drawing his silver sidearm.
From the terrace steps walked Victor Rosetti, flanked by Marcus Vane—the head of the rival Vane syndicate. Victor held a submachine gun, a maniacal grin plastered across his face.
"Dominic!" Victor shouted above the screams of fleeing guests. "You thought you could exile me?! You thought you could give our empire to this gutter trash and your pathetic daughter?!"
"Victor," Dominic stepped out from behind the pillar, his gun raised, his eyes cold. "This ends tonight."
"It does end tonight!" Victor laughed, pointing his weapon directly at Dominic. "Marcus Vane brought fifty men! We took out your perimeter guards five minutes ago! The Rosetti name dies with you!"
Before Victor could pull the trigger, a loud blast echoed from the grand staircase behind them.
Lily stood on the upper landing, holding a small remote control. Beside her stood Mrs. Bellamy, the housekeeper.
"Daddy, now!" Lily yelled, pressing the button.
The estate's automated security shutters slammed down over every window and exit door, trapping Victor’s mercenaries inside the hall and cutting them off from their reinforcements outside. At the same time, Dominic’s elite guards dropped from the balcony overhangs, opening fire on the trapped intruders.
A fierce, chaotic firefight erupted inside the ballroom.
Dominic moved with terrifying speed, eliminating three mercenaries before they could aim. Marcus Vane attempted to flee toward the broken terrace, but Dominic fired two precise shots, taking Vane down instantly.
Victor, panicked and bleeding from a shoulder wound, grabbed a fleeing woman as a human shield, backing toward the service doors.
"Stay back, Dominic!" Victor screamed, his eyes wild with terror. "I’ll blow this whole place to hell!"
Lena, moving silently through the smoke behind the service bar, grabbed a heavy brass candleholder. She stepped out behind Victor and slammed it with all her strength against the back of his head.
Victor collapsed to his knees, dropping his gun.
Dominic closed the distance in a second, kicking the weapon away and pressing the barrel of his silver gun directly against Victor’s forehead.
"Please... Dominic..." Victor whimpered, bleeding onto the shattered glass. "We’re brothers... blood..."
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"You targeted my child," Dominic said, his voice flat, devoid of any human warmth. "You broke the only law that mattered."
Dominic pulled the trigger.
