Chapter 3 - The Gathering StormDownstairs in the grand ballroom, the winter solstice gala continued under a false sense of luxury and safety. Music echoed through the high ceilings, and champagne flowed freely among corrupt politicians and violent capos.
But upstairs in the private study, the atmosphere was thick with impending violence.
Lorenzo Costa paced across the Persian rug, slamming his fist onto the mahogany desk. He glared at Senator Richard Hayes and Enzo Cortez, who stood near the fireplace watching him with cold disinterest.
"She’s a spy," Lorenzo hissed, his face red with fury. "A little rat planted by a rival family. Did you see the way she looked at me? No fear. No respect. And then Nicholas rushes in like her personal knight and kicks me out of the room!"
"Calm yourself, Lorenzo," Senator Hayes said smoothly, adjusting his silk tie. "Nicholas Moretti is a pragmatic man. He wouldn't risk an alliance over a kitchen maid."
"You don't know Nicholas," Enzo Cortez interjected, his voice flat. Enzo had served Moretti for a decade and knew every twitch of his boss's temperament. "If Nicholas took an interest in her, it means there’s more to the girl than a mop and a bucket."
"Then we eliminate her," Lorenzo snarled, pulling a suppressed pistol from his jacket and checking the chamber. "If Nicholas is hiding something in this estate, I have a right to know. I’ll clear out the east wing tonight. Once the maid is gone, Moretti won't have a leg to stand on."
"Be careful, Lorenzo," Enzo warned, his eyes narrowing into cold slits. "The Boss doesn't take kindly to unauthorized executions in his own house."
"He won't find out until it's too late," Lorenzo spat, turning toward the door.
Unbeknownst to Lorenzo, the door to the adjoining corridor was already ajar. Standing just outside in the shadows were Khloe and Nicholas. They had heard every word.
Khloe looked up at Nicholas, a cold, dangerous smile touching the corners of her lips. The meek, shivering maid was gone; in her place stood the legendary operative of the Lupi.
"Looks like your friend Lorenzo is eager to die," Khloe murmured, sliding a hidden stiletto knife from her garter belt and checking its edge with her thumb.
Nicholas looked down at her, a strange mixture of awe and dark fascination gripping his chest. For the first time in years, he felt a genuine thrill.
"He's not my friend," Nicholas said softly. "He's a liability. And tonight, he’s about to find out what happens when you hunt a wolf."
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"Let him come to the east wing," Khloe replied, her eyes flashing in the dim hallway light. "I'll prepare a proper reception."
"No," Nicholas caught her arm gently, stopping her. "We don't hide this time. We bring the war out into the open. Let everyone in this ballroom see what happens when someone touches what belongs to Nicholas Moretti."
