Chapter 15 - The Trap Is Set For Friday Night’s Gala
By Friday evening, the Fifth Avenue penthouse was dazzling with crystal chandeliers, expensive champagne, and elite socialites.
Veronica Hale stood at the top of the grand staircase in a stunning silver gown, accepting congratulations from corrupt politicians and bankers.
“To new beginnings and enduring legacies,” Veronica toasted, raising her glass as flashbulbs popped across the ballroom floor.
Anthony stood beside her, checking his diamond Rolex watch with a triumphant smile as the digital clock ticked toward midnight.
“The probate transfer is fully executed. We officially own everything now,” Anthony whispered into her ear with delight.
Suddenly, the grand double doors of the penthouse ballroom swung open with a loud, echoing crash that silenced the music instantly.
The murmurs of the elite crowd died down into absolute terror as a line of armed federal marshals marched into the room.
Behind them, the heavy oak doors parted further, revealing a figure walking slowly into the brilliant light of the chandelier.
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It wasn't a ghost. It wasn't a hallucination. It was Dominic Moretti, alive, breathing, and radiating absolute power.
Veronica dropped her champagne glass, the crystal shattering against the marble floor as the color drained entirely from her face.
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