Chapter 4 - Playing with Fire
"We have to go back," Nina panicked, grabbing Dante’s arm. "We have to find him! If Viktor’s men find him first, or if he realizes what's in the coat—"
"Mikhail already knows," Dante said darkly, his eyes dropping to where her hand rested on his forearm. He didn't pull away. "Think about it, Nina. A former mafia Don doesn't just happen to sit on a bench outside your workplace by accident. He wasn't hiding from his brother. He was tracking you. He knew your father had the ledger, and he knew your father passed it to you."
"So his shivering... his suffering... it was all an act?" A wave of bitter betrayal washed over Nina. She had risked her own health, given up her only protection against the brutal winter, for a man who was using her as a pawn.
"Most of it," Dante admitted. "But the danger is real now. Viktor's men know you don't have the coat anymore, which means they know Mikhail has it. They are going to tear this city apart to find him. And they will use you to draw him out."
Before Nina could respond, the library doors flew open. Silas stepped in, his face tense. "Sir, we have a problem. Viktor Kovac is hosting a charity gala tonight at the Grand Horizon Hotel. It’s a public front to celebrate his new corporate merger. But our intelligence says he’s using the event to meet with international buyers to sell off the syndicate’s stolen assets."
Dante’s eyes flashed with a lethal, predatory light. "He can't sell what he doesn't fully control. He needs that ledger to unlock the offshore accounts."
He turned back to Nina, his gaze scanning her from head to toe. "We are going to that gala."
"What?" Nina gasped. "I can't go to a billionaire's gala! Look at me!"
"You won't look like this when I'm done with you," Dante murmured, a slow, mesmerizing smile spreading across his face. "Tonight, Nina, you aren't a waitress from Sullivan's. Tonight, you are my fiancée. The future matriarch of the Ricci empire. Viktor Kovac won't dare touch you with my security team surrounding you, and it will force Mikhail out of the shadows."
Three hours later, Nina stood before the full-length mirror in Dante's master suite, barely recognizing the woman staring back.
She wore a breathtaking, midnight-blue silk gown that clung to her curves like liquid night. Her dark hair was styled in elegant, cascading waves, and a diamond necklace worth millions sparkled against her collarbone. But the most striking transformation was in her eyes. The exhaustion was gone, replaced by a fierce, burning resolve.
The door opened, and Dante walked in, wearing a flawless black tuxedo. He froze when he saw her, his breath catching audibly in the quiet room.
He walked over to her, standing behind her in the mirror. He placed his large hands on her bare shoulders, his touch sending a current of pure fire through her veins.
"Beautiful," he whispered against her ear, his voice rough with sudden emotion. "A queen."
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"I'm just a girl trying to save her father, Dante," she said softly, looking at his reflection.
"Tonight, you are whatever you need to be," he replied, turning her around to face him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, heavy silver object. A compact, high-caliber pistol. He slipped it into the concealed pocket of her silk gown. "Just in case."
