Chapter 5 - The Gala of Retribution
Three weeks later, the annual Metropolitan Art Gala at the Museum of Natural History was the most exclusive social gathering of the year.
The grand ballroom glittered with crystal chandeliers, expensive champagne flowing freely among the city's elite. But tonight, all eyes weren't on the art exhibits. They were locked entirely on the grand staircase.
A hush fell over the room as Salvatore Moretti descended the steps. He wore a custom midnight-blue tuxedo, his dark hair combed back, looking every bit the ruthless syndicate king.
But it was the woman on his arm that left the crowd breathless.
Clara Moretti wore a stunning, custom-tailored emerald-green silk velvet gown that hugged her voluptuous, hourglass figure to absolute perfection. A plunging neckline accented by a heavy diamond-encrusted vintage choker completed her look. She didn't look like a woman hiding her body anymore; she looked like an absolute goddess commanding a room of mere mortals.
Whispers rippled through the crowd like wildfire:
*“Is that Marcus Vance’s ex-wife?”*
*“Good lord, she looks incredible. Voluptuous, powerful, untouchable.”*
*“If Marcus dumped that for Chloe, he’s the biggest idiot in New York.”*
Standing near the catering bar, Marcus and Chloe watched them enter. Chloe looked like a stiff skeleton wrapped in discount designer tulle, while Marcus looked as though he had seen a ghost.
Salvatore led Clara toward the center of the ballroom, stopping near the VIP tables where Marcus and Chloe happened to be standing.
Clara’s green eyes locked onto her ex-husband with chilling, calm superiority.
"Good evening, Marcus," Clara said smoothly, her voice carrying clearly across the silent VIP section. "I see you managed to afford a ticket to this event. Though given your firm's recent financial collapse, I’m surprised security let you past the coat check."
Marcus stepped forward, his face twitching with humiliation and rage. "Clara, you think you're clever, don't you? You used Moretti to exact petty revenge—"
Before Marcus could finish his sentence, Salvatore stepped forward, his massive frame blocking Marcus completely. Salvatore didn't raise his voice, but the sheer, lethal intent radiating from him made Marcus instantly freeze.
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"Watch your tone when you speak to my wife, Mr. Vance," Salvatore whispered, his amber eyes narrowing into slits. "You had a diamond in your hands and treated it like glass. Now you get to watch from the gutter while I crown her."
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