Chapter 5 - The Velvet Dress
By eight o'clock that evening, the grand ballroom of the historic Drake Hotel was transformed into a glittering palace of absolute decadence.
Crystallized chandeliers hung from high gold-leaf ceilings. Five hundred elite guests—corrupt politicians, high-society socialites, syndicate bosses, and offshore bankers—moved through the room in tuxedos and evening gowns, drinking champagne while a string quartet played classical music.
Behind the scenes, however, the hotel was an armed fortress. Over two hundred hitmen hired by Marco and the allied syndicates were positioned in the balconies, kitchens, corridors, and rooftop fire escapes.
In the master dressing suite of the Bellaro Tower, Mara stood in front of a full-length gilded mirror, looking at her reflection in total disbelief.
She wore a custom floor-length emerald green silk gown provided by Mateo’s personal stylist. The dress fit her perfectly, hugging her curves gracefully before flowing down to the floor, leaving her shoulders bare. Her dark hair was styled in elegant, soft waves, and around her neck rested a simple, breathtaking diamond pendant.
The door behind her opened softly.
Mateo walked in.
He wore a tailored black three-piece tuxedo that broad-shouldered his imposing frame, hiding the heavy bandages wrapped tightly around his torso. His dark hair was slicked back, and on his left pinky sat his iconic black signet ring featuring the crowned wolf.
He stopped in his tracks, his dark eyes fixated on Mara. For a long, silent moment, the most feared man in the Midwest simply forgot how to speak.
Mara blushed slightly, adjusting her emerald sleeve nervously. "Is it... is it too much? I’ve never worn anything like this. I feel like an imposter."
Mateo walked across the room, his long, heavy strides silent against the Persian rug. He stopped right behind her, standing close enough that Mara could feel the intense heat radiating from his broad body.
"You look like a queen, Mara," Mateo said softly, his deep voice carrying a raw, mesmerizing reverence. "You look like you own this entire city."
Mara turned around to face him, looking up into his intense dark eyes. "Mateo... you don't have to go to this gala tonight. Your stitches are only twenty-four hours old. Marco is desperate. He’ll have shooters everywhere."
Mateo reached out, his broad, warm hand gently cupping her cheek. His thumb brushed softly over her cheekbone, making Mara’s breath catch in her throat.
"If I stay in this tower, Marco will think I am hiding," Mateo explained quietly. "A Don who hides is a Don who loses. Tonight, I end this war forever. So that Leo and I can live in peace."
He leaned down slightly, his dark eyes searching hers with profound intensity.
"Come with me tonight, Mara," Mateo asked gently. "Stand beside me. Not as my nurse... but as my equal."
May you like
Mara felt her heart beating wildly against her ribs. She knew the danger. She knew stepping into that ballroom meant stepping into the heart of a war zone. But looking into Mateo’s fierce, protective eyes, she realized she would follow this man to the ends of the earth.
"I’ll be right beside you, Mateo," Mara promised softly, placing her hand over his. "Always."
