Chapter 11 - THE GRAND GALA|
The Plaza Hotel grand ballroom was a sea of black ties, diamond necklaces, and whispered rumors.
Every major figure in the city's business and political sectors was present. They had come to see Dominic Russo—the man who had survived a syndicate coup, wiped out his rivals, and emerged richer and more powerful than ever.
When the heavy brass doors opened, the chatter in the room evaporated instantly.
Dominic walked into the ballroom wearing a flawless midnight-blue tuxedo. But it wasn't his presence that captivated the room—it was the woman on his arm.
Nora wore a floor-length emerald silk dress that hugged her frame with regal simplicity. Her dark hair was styled in soft vintage waves, secured with a platinum clip. Around her neck hung a simple diamond pendant that matched the glowing emerald ring on her finger.
She didn't walk like a girl hiding from her debts. She walked with the quiet, devastating poise of a woman who had faced death in a dark room and come out victorious.
"Look at them," a wealthy socialite whispered behind a feathered fan. "Who is she? Is she an heiress from Europe?"
"No," another whispered back. "They say she's the one who brought down Vincent Marro."
Dominic leaned close to Nora's ear, his hand firm and protective against the small of her back.
"They're terrified of you," he murmured with a dark, proud smile.
"Good," Nora whispered back, smiling gracefully at a passing senator. "It keeps them from asking stupid questions."
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Suddenly, a commotion erupted near the main entrance.
A high-ranking federal officer, flanked by two armed agents, pushed his way through the crowd directly toward Dominic.
