Chapter 5 - The Gala of Knives
The St. Regis ballroom was a palace of crystal chandeliers, flowing champagne fountains, and men who traded lives over caviar. Every power player in the state was in attendance: politicians, judges, shipping magnates, and the elite capos of the underworld dressed in five-figure tuxedos.
I wore a floor-length backless gown of midnight velvet, with diamond drops hanging from my ears that Nolan had fastened himself in the limousine. My arm was linked through his. Every step we took drew whispers, stares, and covert glances from the city's most dangerous men.
At our estate, Eli was guarded by twenty private security operators and three armored perimeter vehicles. He was safe, watching cartoons with Marco over a mountain of pizza. But here, the danger was wearing a tuxedo.
""Keep your chin up,"" Nolan murmured close to my ear, his breath warm against my neck. ""You are the queen of this city tonight. Act like you could buy every soul in this room.""
""I feel like a target,"" I muttered back through a tight, elegant smile.
""You are a target,"" Nolan agreed cheerfully. ""That means they respect you.""
Before I could retort, the crowd parted like the Red Sea.
An older man with slicked-back silver hair, a cane tipped with solid gold, and cold, dead eyes stepped forward. Sal Moretti. The patriarch of the North Docks. Behind him, looking pale and nervous in an ill-fitting suit, was Tyler.
""Nolan,"" Sal spoke with a dry, gravelly rasp that sounded like grinding stones. ""You look remarkably composed for a man whose domestic life has become so... complicated.""
""Sal,"" Nolan greeted him smoothly, taking two glasses of vintage champagne from a passing waiter and handing one to me. ""I see you brought Tyler. I’m surprised you let him wear a tie. Leashes are usually more appropriate for stray dogs.""
Tyler flushed scarlet, his good fist clenching, but a sharp glance from Moretti made him immediately shut his mouth.
Moretti turned his reptilian gaze to me. ""And this must be the brave Miss Vance. Tell me, my dear, does your boy resemble his father? David was a handsome young man before his unfortunate car accident. Such a tragedy when the brakes fail on a wet bridge.""
My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. Sal was confessing to David’s murder right in front of me, couching it in polite society conversation. David hadn't died in an accident. The mob had murdered Eli's father.
I felt Nolan’s arm tense beneath my fingers, the muscle turning to granite.
""Sal,"" Nolan said, his voice dropping into that chilling, lethal register that cleared rooms. ""You have twenty minutes of pleasantries left before this evening becomes unrecoverable. I suggest you enjoy the champagne.""
""I don't need champagne, boy,"" Moretti sneered, leaning heavily on his gold cane. ""I want Pier 9. And I want the bonds. The DNA results from the hairbrush will be delivered to the press at midnight. The city will know your heir is a ghost story, and the grand jury will unseal the indictment on your waterfront contracts.""
Nolan didn't blink. He raised his glass slightly, taking a measured sip.
""Do you know why I invited you here tonight, Sal?"" Nolan asked softly.
Moretti frowned, suspicious. ""You didn't invite me. This is the Governor’s charity.""
""I bought the venue this morning,"" Nolan replied, a slow, predatory smile touching the corners of his lips. ""I bought the catering company. I bought the security contracts for the perimeter. And five minutes ago, my men breached your primary warehouse at Pier 14.""
Moretti’s face drained of color. The arrogant sneer vanished instantly. ""You wouldn't dare.""
""I didn't just dare,"" Nolan whispered, stepping into Moretti’s personal space until the older man was forced to tilt his head back. ""I found your ledger, Sal. The one with the payouts to the port authority. The one David Miller copied before you cut the brake lines on his sedan.""
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My eyes snapped to Nolan. David had kept a ledger?
""David Miller wasn't an accountant who made a mistake,"" Nolan revealed, his voice echoing with absolute authority. ""He was working for me. He was gathering evidence to dismantle your operation from the inside. And his son, Eli, isn't my hostage, Sal. He is the son of the bravest man who ever worked for this family. Which makes him my blood in every way that counts.""
