Chapter 4 - The Betrayal at the Gala
The revelation hit the hallway like a thunderclap.
Antoine’s face didn't twist in anger; it settled into a cold, terrifying mask of absolute calm—the kind of calm that preceded a massacre.
“So my late wife tried to sell my children to the Morettis,” Antoine said softly, his voice deadlier than a drawn blade. “And Bianca helped her.”
“Yes, Boss,” Donovan replied. “And according to these messages, the Morettis are expecting Bianca to present the children at the annual Society Gala tonight at the Windsor Hotel. They were planning to use the public gathering to announce a 'joint guardianship' board, forcing your hand in front of every business mogul in the city.”
Dela gasped. “They want to use the babies as pawns!”
Antoine turned his eyes to Dela, a dark, calculating smile spreading across his lips. “They think they have played me. They think I am a grieving, broken father with mute children and an unstable household.”
He took a step toward Dela, his hands wrapping around her waist. The closeness made her cheeks flare crimson, but she didn't shrink away this time.
“Dela,” Antoine murmured, looking down at her lips. “How would you like to attend a high-society gala tonight?”
Dela’s eyes widened in panic. “Me? Antoine, no! I don't belong at a place like the Windsor Hotel! I don't have a dress, I don't know how to walk or talk like those people, and they will laugh me out of the room!”
“They will bow to you,” Antoine corrected fiercely. “You are coming as my guest of honor. You will walk in on my arm, holding my children, and we will show every corrupt monster in New Orleans exactly who controls this city.”
Within two hours, the Maro Estate was flooded with elite stylists, tailors, and jewelers brought in by Antoine’s command. While Dela tried to resist, Antoine sat in the corner of the dressing room, watching with absolute authority as they transformed her.
When Dela finally stepped out from behind the curtain, her breath caught in her throat as she looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror.
She wore a custom emerald-green silk gown that draped over her curves like melted jewel tones. The empire waist highlighted her shape beautifully, while the flowing skirt made her look regal and majestic. Her dark hair was styled in soft, cascading curls pinned back with emerald-embedded hair clips. A diamond necklace rested against her collarbone, catching the light.
She didn't look like a diner waitress. She looked like a queen.
Antoine stood up slowly, his breath catching in his throat. For a man who never showed vulnerability, his eyes burned with unvarnished admiration.
He walked over, stopping right in front of her. He reached out, his hand resting gently against her waist, pulling her flush against him.
“You take my breath away, Dela,” he whispered hoarsely.
May you like
Dela’s heart pounded against her ribs. “You... you don't think I look too big?”
Antoine leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear, sending shivers down her spine. “I think you look absolute, irresistible perfection. And tonight, the entire world is going to envy me.”
