Chapter 21
Two weeks later, the grand reopening of the Halcyon Crown Hotel was the undisputed event of the Manhattan season.
The main ballroom was even more spectacular than before, adorned with white orchids and towering ice sculptures.
New York’s elite gathered in droves, eager to curry favor with the city’s newest power couple.
Beatrice stood near the center of the room, wearing an exquisite emerald green velvet gown that hugged her curves perfectly.
She radiated effortless grace and absolute authority, conversing with senators, hedge fund managers, and foreign dignitaries.
Dante stood beside her, his hand resting possessively at the small of her back.
Nobody laughed now.
Nobody made crude comments about back elevators or office chairs.
When Beatrice Gallagher spoke, the most powerful people in the country leaned in to listen.
Maggie walked up to them, looking radiant in a dark blue dress, holding a glass of sparkling cider.
“Bea, the Mayor’s office just confirmed they want you on the financial oversight board,” Maggie beamed.
“That’s wonderful news, Maggie,” Beatrice smiled, giving her sister’s hand a gentle squeeze.
“You’ve built something incredible here, Beatrice,” Dante murmured into her ear as Maggie walked over to join some friends.
“We built it,” Beatrice corrected him, looking up at him with a warm, confident smile.
Suddenly, Marco appeared at Dante’s shoulder, his expression unusually serious despite the festive atmosphere.
He leaned in close to Dante and whispered something that caused Dante’s jaw to clench tightly.
Beatrice noticed the sudden shift immediately. “Marco? What is it?”
Dante looked at Beatrice, his dark eyes darkening with a familiar, dangerous intensity.
“A private jet just landed at JFK from Milan,” Dante said, his voice dropping to a low, guarded tone.
May you like
“Who was on it?” Beatrice asked, her instincts alerting her to fresh danger.
“My uncle, Matteo Moretti,” Dante revealed softly. “The man who ordered my father’s assassination ten years ago.”
