Chapter 7 - The Trap at the GalaThe annual Valentino Winter Gala was a display of power masked as a charity event. The grand ballroom was packed with city council members, judges, rival syndicate bosses, and elite families dressed in silks and diamonds.
Arya stood near the shadow of the velvet curtains, wearing a simple, elegant black dress Dante had ordered for her. She was supposed to remain in the background, monitoring the guest list and coordinating with security, but her presence had already drawn the attention of the wolves.
"Look at her," whispered Sophia Lucchese, the daughter of a rival family faction, her voice carrying across the champagne fountain. "Dante cleans up his maids nicely. I suppose she’s useful for more than just polishing the silver."
A low giggle rippled through the circle of elite women surrounding Sophia. Arya lowered her head, the familiar sting of public humiliation burning her cheeks. She turned to retreat back into the service hallway, but a heavy, warm hand suddenly clamped around her waist, stopping her dead in her tracks.
Dante Valentino stepped out of the crowd. He wore a custom midnight-blue tuxedo, his presence immediately silencing the surrounding conversations. He didn't look at Sophia; his eyes were fixed on the crowd as he pulled Arya firmly against his side.
"Miss Lucchese," Dante said, his voice cut through the ballroom like a bell. "The Valentino estate does not employ maids. We employ professionals. And the woman you are currently disparaging handles the logistics of my private accounts."
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He turned his gaze down to Arya, his expression softening into something intensely intimate, designed for everyone in the room to witness.
"If any member of this assembly treats her with anything less than the respect demanded by my station, I will consider it a declaration of hostility against the Valentino name. Choose your words carefully moving forward. The cement in this city dries very quickly."
