Chapter 7 - The Spilled Vintage Merlot, A Scheming Socialite, and The Slap That Shook Manhattan
By the second month of their marriage, the world began to realize that Norah Castellano was not a temporary fixture.
She had completely reorganized the Castellano foundation, discovered three embezzlement schemes in Luca’s legitimate shipping subsidiaries, and saved the company $14 million in audit penalties.
Leo was laughing again. He ate his meals, excelled in his private tutoring, and held Norah’s hand wherever they went.
But resentment was brewing among Luca’s old associates.
At the annual Castellano Foundation Charity Auction in Manhattan, Luca had to step away to the VIP mezzanine to handle an urgent security briefing.
Norah stood near the silent auction tables, checking the bidding ledgers.
Elena Moretti—the daughter of Luca’s oldest underboss, a woman who had expected to marry Luca for five years—approached Norah with a venomous smile.
Elena was holding a full glass of vintage Merlot.
“You really think you belong here, don't you?” Elena whispered, her eyes dripping with malice. “A chubby suburban divorcee playing mob queen. Luca took you in out of pity for his nephew.”
Norah didn't look up from her tablet. “The minimum bid for that hospital wing is $500,000, Elena. If you aren't bidding, please step aside.”
Enraged by Norah’s absolute lack of fear, Elena deliberately tilted her glass.
A stream of dark red wine poured straight down the front of Norah’s custom ivory silk dress.
The surrounding guests gasped.
Elena feigned horror. “Oh, goodness! How clumsy of me! But then again, cheap fabric always looks better stained, doesn't it?”
Norah didn't cry. She didn't scream.
She calmly set her tablet down on the auction pedestal.
Then, with the speed and precision of an elite athlete, Norah stepped forward and delivered a crisp, resounding slap across Elena Moretti’s cheek.
CRACK.
The sound echoed across the entire mezzanine.
Elena stumbled back into a champagne display, clutching her stinging face in utter shock.
“You... you hit me?” Elena shrieked. “My father is Don Moretti! Luca will have you killed for this!”
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“Luca won't have anyone killed,” a deep, chilling voice sounded from the top of the marble staircase.
Luca walked down the steps slowly, his steel-gray eyes locked onto Elena like a predator closing in for the kill.
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