Chapter 9 - THE DINner PARTY AMBUSH
Three days later, Dante made his counter-move.
He didn't send enforcers.
He sent an invitation engraved in heavy silver foil.
“Caruso Annual Charity Gala. Saturday night. Grand Ballroom.”
At the bottom, written in Dante’s bold, familiar handwriting:
“Be there. Or I tell the press about your father’s gambling debts.”
Blackmail.
The ultimate weapon of a desperate man.
Saturday night arrived like a thunderstorm over Manhattan.
Lightning flashed across the sky as my limousine pulled up to the Halcyon Grand.
The exact same ballroom where Dante had humiliated me a week ago.
This time, the media was waiting outside in droves.
Flashes blinded me the moment I stepped out of the car.
I wore a floor-length crimson gown that clung to my silhouette like liquid fire.
My hair was swept up in a tight chignon, adorned with diamond heirloom pins.
I walked up the marble steps with the posture of a queen walking to her coronation.
Inside the ballroom, four hundred guests turned in unison as the double doors opened.
Dante stood at the head table.
He looked impeccable in a custom midnight-blue tuxedo.
His gray eyes locked onto mine across the crowded room.
He thought he had cornered me.
He thought the threat of exposing my father’s old debts would bring me crawling back to his side.
He didn't know I had spent the last forty-eight hours buying up every single one of those debt notes from the loan sharks who held them.
I walked down the grand staircase alone.
Whispers rippled through the crowd.
“Isn’t that Mrs. Caruso?”
“I heard they separated.”
“Look at her dress...”
Dante stepped forward, holding out his hand with a triumphant, possessive smile.
“Elena,” he said smoothly, projecting his voice for the entire room to hear.
“I knew you wouldn’t miss our anniversary gala.”
I stopped two feet away from him.
I didn't take his hand.
Instead, I pulled a thick white envelope from my evening clutch and placed it squarely into his palm.
Dante frowned.
“What is this?”
“Your anniversary gift, Dante,” I smiled, sweet and lethal.
“Open it.”
Dante tore open the envelope.
He pulled out the papers inside.
One by one, his color drained.
They weren't divorce papers.
They were foreclosure notices on every commercial property owned by Caruso Atlantic Holdings.
And attached to the top was my father’s debt ledger, stamped PAID IN FULL by Elena Caruso.
“How... how did you get these?” Dante choked out, his voice shaking.
“You always underestimated me, Dante,” I said, stepping close enough for only him to hear.
“You thought my father’s debts were your leverage.”
“They were my inheritance.”
“And now, every building you stand in, every table in this room, belongs to my private trust.”
Dante stared at the papers.
The powerful mafia boss of Manhattan.
May you like
The man who boasted he could sleep with anyone while his wife stood behind him.
Right now, he looked like a man standing on a trapdoor waiting for the lever to be pulled.
