Chapter 9 - The Ambush in the Ballroom
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The grand ballroom of the Drake Hotel glittered with crystal chandeliers and dangerous money.
The elite of Chicago’s underworld were dressed in their finest, drinking expensive champagne while silently plotting each other's demise. As Victor and I entered the room, the conversation noticeably dropped in volume. Every eye in the room pivoted toward the feared Rossi boss and the unknown woman in red silk standing proudly by his side.
"Stay close," Victor murmured, his hand remaining firmly on the small of my back as he navigated the treacherous social waters.
He introduced me simply as "Harper," offering no explanations, letting the mystery fuel their paranoia. I played my part flawlessly, channeling an aristocratic confidence I didn't know I possessed. I smiled coolly at ruthless capos and nodded politely at their heavily jeweled wives.
An hour into the gala, Lorenzo Falcone, the patriarch of the rival family, approached us. He was an older man with silver hair and a terrifying, predatory smile.
"Victor," Lorenzo sneered, his eyes raking over me with undisguised contempt. "I see you brought a civilian to a family gathering. How brave."
"I brought my partner, Lorenzo," Victor replied smoothly, his tone laced with ice. "Something you severely lack since your lieutenants started disappearing."
Lorenzo's smile tightened into a grimace. The insult hit its mark perfectly.
Before Lorenzo could respond, a waiter holding a silver tray of champagne bumped aggressively into Victor's shoulder.
My instincts, honed by years of watching over a traumatized child, screamed that something was wrong. The waiter didn't apologize. He reached beneath the silver tray, his hand moving with terrifying speed.
I saw the glint of dark metal.
"Gun!" I screamed, entirely abandoning my elegant facade.
I didn't think. I shoved Victor violently backward with both hands, throwing myself entirely into his space just as the deafening CRACK of a suppressed gunshot shattered the music.
The bullet, meant for Victor’s chest, grazed the outer edge of my upper arm, tearing through the red silk like a hot knife.
Chaos erupted instantly. Screams filled the ballroom as the elite scattered like roaches.
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Victor reacted with the lethal speed of an apex predator. He tackled the disguised waiter to the marble floor, disarming the assassin with a brutal, sickening crunch of bone, executing him with a single strike before turning his panicked eyes to me.
"Harper!" Victor roared, his hands covered in blood as he lunged toward me, catching me as my knees finally buckled from the shock.
