Chapter 5 - The Gala Under Siege
Despite the escalating war, the annual Kavanaugh Charity Gala could not be canceled. To cancel it would show weakness to the rival families and the FBI. The estate’s grand ballroom was transformed into a glittering spectacle of wealth and power. Politicians rubbed elbows with businessmen, and hidden beneath the expensive tuxedos were shoulder holsters and bulletproof vests. Renick ordered Belle to stay in the panic room with the children, but Belle refused.
“If I hide, they’ll know something is wrong,” Belle argued earlier that day. “Let me serve drinks. Let me blend in. I have good instincts, Renick.” Reluctantly, he agreed, assigning two undercover guards specifically to watch her. Micah and Brinley were safely locked in the reinforced nursery with a trusted nanny. As the night progressed, Belle moved through the crowd with a silver tray of champagne. She kept her eyes sharp, watching the faces of the guests.
Everything seemed perfect until 11 PM. Belle noticed a subtle shift in the room's energy. The side doors, which were supposed to be locked and guarded, were slightly ajar. She saw Sully Byrne standing near the entrance, nodding to a group of men in catering uniforms who hadn't been there earlier. They weren't carrying trays. Their hands were inside their jackets. Belle’s blood ran cold. She looked across the room and saw Renick talking to the Mayor, completely unaware.
The fake caterers began moving toward Renick in a coordinated formation. Belle didn't think. She just moved. She dropped her silver tray. It hit the marble floor with a deafening CRASH. The sound startled the room. “Renick! GET DOWN!” Belle screamed at the top of her lungs. The fake caterers drew their weapons.
Chaos erupted. Gunfire shattered the crystal chandeliers. Women screamed, men shouted, and the crowd surged in panic. Renick dove behind a heavy marble pillar just as bullets chewed through the spot he had been standing. His own men returned fire, turning the glittering gala into a warzone. Belle was shoved violently by the fleeing crowd. She stumbled and fell hard against a shattered glass table. A searing pain ripped through her shoulder.
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Through the smoke and screaming, Renick’s eyes scanned the room wildly. He wasn't looking for the shooters. He was looking for her. He spotted her on the floor, bleeding, clutching her shoulder. A roar tore from the mafia boss's throat. Ignoring the crossfire, Renick broke cover. He sprinted across the open floor, firing his weapon with deadly precision, dropping two of the assassins. He slid across the floor, shielding Belle’s body with his own massive frame.
“I’ve got you,” he grunted as a bullet grazed his own arm. “I’ve got you, Belle.” More of Renick’s men swarmed the room, overwhelming the remaining attackers. But as Renick lifted Belle into his arms to carry her to safety, Belle looked up. Over Renick’s shoulder, she saw Sully Byrne slipping quietly out the side door, unharmed and unnoticed by the guards. The traitor wasn't a Moretti. It was the man living inside their own walls.
