Chapter 4 - A Web of Poison and Polished Steel
Luna rushed into the pantry, her mind spinning with chaotic thoughts of Luca’s whisper.
She quickly wrapped a strip of clean white bandage around her bleeding palm to stop the flow.
She smoothed her ruffled hair in the small mirror beside the spice cabinet and grabbed a silver tray of appetizers.
Chef Roberto was screaming at the line cooks, threatening to butcher anyone who allowed the duck canapés to cool.
Luna carried the heavy tray out into the grand ballroom, stepping directly into the lion’s den.
The room had transformed into a shimmering battleground of competing egos and fragile alliances.
More than a hundred heiresses swarmed the expansive floor, laughing loudly at Luca’s polite, meaningless remarks.
Katarina Vulov, the daughter of the Russian boss, had claimed the prime position right beside him.
She looked like an ice queen in a strapless silver gown, her diamond earrings reflecting the light.
She rested her manicured hand possessively on Luca’s sleeve, tilting her chin up to whisper into his ear.
Luna felt a sharp pang of agony tear through her chest as she watched the display from afar.
Luca was smiling politely, playing the part of the gracious host, but his posture remained stiff.
“Do you see how she clings to him?” Maria muttered, appearing suddenly beside Luna with a tray of empty flutes.
“Her father gave Luca an ultimatum yesterday regarding the Brooklyn cargo docks.”
“If Luca rejects her tonight, the Vulov syndicate will unleash their hit squads across the bridges.”
“Luca will do what survival demands, Luna. He will marry the Russian snake and live through the winter.”
Luna nodded mutely, forcing herself to turn away from the heartbreaking spectacle.
She navigated through the crowded clusters of minor mob captains and their overdressed wives.
Fragments of tense, dangerous conversations floated through the air above the classical waltz.
“The Don’s doctor said he won’t last another month,” a man with a scarred cheek whispered behind his glass.
“The Chicago families are waiting for Luca to make a mistake before moving in on Manhattan.”
“If he chooses wrong tonight, the war will wipe out half the families in this room.”
Luna’s hand shook beneath the silver tray, the weight of the canapés suddenly feeling unbearable.
She had never fully grasped the terrifying pressure weighing down on Luca’s shoulders every single day.
He was not just a wealthy heir; he was the thin barrier preventing a massive bloodbath across the entire city.
“Pardon me, little bird.”
A smooth, foreign voice pulled Luna abruptly from her spiraling thoughts.
She stopped in front of table six, where a group of younger mobsters sat smoking expensive cigarettes.
The man speaking to her sat back comfortably in his velvet armchair, a half-empty glass of vodka in hand.
He possessed razor-sharp cheekbones, pale blond hair, and ice-blue eyes that held zero warmth.
Luna recognized him instantly from the family dossiers Don Salvatore kept locked in his desk.
Dmitri Kosoff, the violent younger brother of Katarina Vulov and the primary enforcer of the Russian syndicate.
“Good evening, sir,” Luna replied, keeping her voice neutral and her eyes carefully lowered.
“Can I offer you an appetizer?”
“I am not hungry for food, little maid,” Dmitri said with a slow, calculating smirk.
He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the white linen table, his cold eyes scanning her uniform.
“You are part of the permanent household staff, yes?”
“I am, sir.”
“Three years in this mansion, if I heard correctly from the guards outside?”
A cold prickle of alarm ran down Luna’s spine.
Why was the Russian underboss asking about her employment history during a major gala?
“I have worked here for three years, sir,” she answered, taking half a step backward.
“Fascinating,” Dmitri murmured, tapping his heavy platinum signet ring against the crystal glass.
“In three years, a quiet girl like you must see many interesting documents left on desks.”
“You must hear many private telephone calls while sweeping the Don’s corridors.”
“A discreet girl in your position could become very wealthy in a single night, Miss Reyes.”
Luna’s heart turned to ice as she realized what the Russian was doing.
He was attempting to recruit her as an internal spy right in the middle of Luca’s bride selection.
“I am only a maid, sir,” Luna said firmly, raising her chin just enough to meet his gaze.
“I clean the floors, I serve the food, and I keep my ears closed to my employers' business.”
Dmitri’s smile vanished, replaced by an expression of cold, predatory annoyance.
“Be careful, little Mexican girl,” he whispered, his voice laced with venomous menace.
“When my sister becomes the mistress of this house tonight, insolent maids will be thrown into the Hudson River.”
Before Luna could respond, a heavy hand dropped onto Dmitri’s shoulder like an iron clamp.
May you like
Dmitri’s body locked up instantly, the arrogance draining from his pale face in a heartbeat.
Luca Moretti stood towering over the table, his green eyes burning with murderous, undisguised rage.
