Chapter 5 - The Gala of Wolves
The grand ballroom of the St. Regis Hotel was a shimmering sea of crystal chandeliers, flowing champagne, and lethal political undercurrents. Over three hundred people filled the room—corrupt senators, high-society heiresses, and the ruthless crime bosses who truly ran the eastern seaboard.
When the heavy double doors opened and the announcer declared, "Mr. Gabriel Moretti," the room went instantly quiet.
Gabriel walked in, holding himself with the terrifying dominance of an absolute monarch. But it was not his presence alone that caused heads to turn and champagne glasses to stop mid-air.
It was the woman on his arm.
Emma walked with her head held high, though her heart was pounding. She could feel the sharp, judgy glares of the sleek, high-society women lining the room. Whispers spread like wildfire through the crowd.
"Who is she?" "Is that a maid from his estate?" "She’s... huge! Look at her body! Why is Gabriel Moretti with a woman like that?" "Where is Julianna Valenti?"
Emma stiffened slightly as a particularly loud giggle from a group of heiresses reached her ears. But before self-doubt could take root, Gabriel’s hand tightened firmly around her waist, pulling her flush against his broad side.
"Keep your head up, my love," Gabriel murmured into her ear, his voice a low, protective purr. "They glare because they are ghosts, and you are real."
Suddenly, the crowd parted, and Julianna Valenti strutted forward, wearing a skin-tight silver metallic gown designed to show off her thin, heavily sculpted frame. Beside her stood her brother, Marco Valenti, his dark eyes filled with arrogant disdain.
"Gabriel!" Julianna drawled, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness as she glided toward them. "You finally arrived. I was beginning to think you had forgotten about our reserved table."
"Julianna," Gabriel said coldly, not moving an inch. "You know my time is limited."
Julianna’s eyes slid over Emma, taking in the emerald velvet gown and the multi-million-dollar necklace around her neck. Her face twisted with pure, venomous jealousy.
"And who is this?" Julianna sneered, looking Emma up and down with disgust. "Gabriel, darling, did your charity organization expand to bringing the domestic help as dates? I heard rumors you fired your staff over a chubby maid, but I didn't believe you had lost your taste so completely."
Gasps rippled through the nearby crowd. Marco Valenti chuckled softly, folding his arms over his chest.
Emma felt her cheeks burn. The old instinct to shrink away, to apologize for her existence, clawed at her throat.
Before Gabriel could tear Marco’s throat out with his bare hands, Emma stepped forward half an inch, holding herself with remarkable dignity.
"Miss Valenti, is it?" Emma asked, her voice calm, clear, and ringing across the silent circle of onlookers. "I may have worked for an honest living, but at least my value isn't measured by how little space I take up or how much of my father's money I spend on silver paint."
A few junior lieutenants from the surrounding families smothered snickers into their gloves.
Julianna’s face turned bright red with fury. "You arrogant little fat bitch—"
In a movement so fast it blurred, Gabriel stepped between them. He grabbed Julianna by her slender throat, slamming her backward against a marble pillar. The sound cracked through the ballroom like a gunshot.
Marco instantly drew a sidearm, but within a fraction of a second, twenty of Gabriel’s hidden enforcers inside the ballroom drew their weapons, pointing thirty high-caliber barrels directly at Marco’s head.
"Listen to me very carefully, Julianna," Gabriel hissed, his eyes burning with a dark, apocalyptic fury that made the heiress tremble in terror. "You speak to my future wife like that again, and I will destroy the Valenti family before the sun rises."
He released her throat, letting her slump to the marble floor coughing and clutching her neck.
May you like
Gabriel turned back to Emma, ignoring the stunned, terrified silence of the three hundred elites in the room. He took her hand, his expression softening completely as he looked into her eyes.
"Shall we dance, my queen?" Gabriel asked softly.
