Chapter 8 - The Gala at the Plaza
On Friday evening, the Moretti family hosted their annual charitable gala at the historic Plaza Hotel in Manhattan.
It was a grand display of high society wealth, designed to camouflage their underworld operations behind philanthropy.
Elena insisted that Sophia attend the event, ordering a stunning emerald-green silk gown delivered to her room.
When Sophia walked down the grand staircase of the Plaza, the entire ballroom seemed to lose its breath.
The jewel-toned silk clung perfectly to her curves, accentuating her dark eyes and radiant, olive skin.
Dante stood at the foot of the stairs in a tailored black tuxedo, looking utterly imposing and impossibly handsome.
His eyes locked onto Sophia, his usual controlled mask slipping for a brief, electric fraction of a second.
"You look... extraordinary," Dante said, offering his arm as she reached the bottom step.
"Thank you, Mr. Moretti," Sophia replied, placing her gloved hand gently over his forearm.
"Tonight, it's Dante," he instructed softly, leading her through the sea of politicians, judges, and socialites.
As they moved through the ballroom, Sophia felt the weight of dozens of hostile eyes tracking her every step.
Victoria Moretti was watching from the champagne tower, whispering frantically to a group of elderly mafia matriarchs.
"She doesn't belong here, Dante," Victoria hissed as she intercepted them near the VIP mezzanine.
"She is a servant girl from Brooklyn. You are embarrassing the family by parading her on your arm!"
Dante’s jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with a lethal, terrifying intensity that made Victoria step back.
"Sophia is my personal guest, Aunt Victoria," Dante said in a low, dangerous tone that silenced the surrounding crowd.
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"And if you disrespect her again in public, I will strip your monthly allowance down to zero."
Before Victoria could recover, a loud crash echoed from the front entrance of the Plaza ballroom.
