Chapter 5 - Echoes of the Past
The grand ballroom of the Windsor Hotel was a sea of glittering crystal chandeliers, tuxedo-clad men, and women draped in diamonds. Champagne flowed freely as New Orleans' highest elite gathered for the annual charity event.
At the center of the room stood Victor Moretti—a ruthless, silver-haired man in his late fifties—alongside a nervous Bianca Vance.
“Where is he?” Victor growled under his breath, sipping his scotch. “You said Antoine was broken, distracted by his silent brats.”
“He is!” Bianca insisted frantically. “He was destabilized when I left his estate. He has no idea about the wire transfers!”
Suddenly, the massive double doors of the ballroom swung open with a deafening thud.
The orchestra stopped playing. The room went dead silent.
Antoine Maro stepped into the ballroom. He looked magnificent and lethal in a tailored black velvet tuxedo. But it was not his presence that caused the crowd to gasp—it was the woman on his arm.
Dela walked with her head held high, radiating warmth and strength. In her arms, she held baby Mia, who was wearing a matching little green dress. Behind them, Donovan and two trusted guards pushed a double stroller holding Leo and Luca, both dressed in adorable little tuxedos.
Whispers exploded through the room like wildfire.
“Who is that woman?” “Is that the waitress from the diner?” “Look at her... she’s huge!” “Why is Antoine bringing her to the Windsor?”
Bianca’s eyes nearly popped out of her head as she took a step back in horror. Victor Moretti’s jaw tightened into a vicious snarl.
Antoine ignored the whispers, guiding Dela directly toward the center stage where the microphone stood. The crowd parted like the Red Sea, terrified to step into his path.
Antoine stepped up to the microphone, his hand resting securely on Dela’s waist, holding her close to his side.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” Antoine’s voice echoed through the high speakers, smooth as silk and cold as iron. “I know many of you have heard rumors about my family over the last six months. Rumors about my late wife, my children’s health, and the future of the Maro enterprise.”
He glanced over at Victor Moretti and Bianca, who were standing frozen in the front row.
“Tonight, I am here to clear up those rumors,” Antoine continued, his gaze sweeping over the crowd. “First, my children are healthy, happy, and fully vocal.”
As if on cue, baby Mia leaned into the microphone held near her face, patted Dela’s cheek, and babbled happily, “Mama! Love Mama!”
The crowd gasped in shock.
Antoine smiled—a dark, victorious smile. “Second, I would like to introduce the woman who saved my children’s lives when others tried to abandon them to die. This is Dela Marsh. Former senior neonatal nurse... and the future matriarch of the Maro family.”
Dela’s head snapped toward Antoine, her eyes wide with total shock. Matriarch?!
Before anyone could react, Antoine signaled Donovan. High-definition projection screens around the ballroom flickered to life, displaying bank statements, text messages, and audio recordings implicating Victor Moretti and Bianca Vance in corporate espionage, medical fraud, and the murder of Elena Maro.
Pandemonium broke out.
“What is the meaning of this!” Victor roared, reaching into his jacket.
Before Victor could pull a gun, Donovan and four plainclothes officers slammed Victor against the glass table, cuffing him instantly. Bianca tried to run for the exit, but two female officers cut her off, forcing her to her knees as handcuffs clicked around her wrists.
Antoine stepped down from the stage, leading Dela past the disgraced traitors.
Victor spat blood onto the floor, glaring up at Antoine. “You think this wins you the city, Maro? You brought a fat nurse into our world! She will never survive us!”
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Antoine stopped, turning back to face Victor. He leaned down, his eyes gleaming with terrifying darkness.
“She already survived your worst, Victor,” Antoine whispered softly. “And unlike you... she will reign over this city by my side.”
