Chapter 13 - MONTE CARLO AMBUSH: THE WAITRESS WHO OUTSMARTED FIVE CARTEL BOSSES
To solidify my claim and protect Leo, Dante and I boarded a private jet to Monte Carlo for the High Commission Summit. The grand marble hall was packed with merciless cartel lords, all sneering at the "waitress queen" who had dared to claim the Romanov throne.
The grand warlord of the Mediterranean faction, Don Cassian, stood up at the long banquet table, raising a crystal glass in mock celebration. “Dante Vance brings a server to sit among kings! Tell us, little girl, are you going to pour our wine or offer us pennies from your tip jar?”
Laughter rippled through the hall. Dante’s hand went straight to his weapon, but I placed my hand on his wrist, staying his rage.
I stood up, adjusting the diamond collar around my neck, and pulled out a black leather ledger—the secret ledger I had taken from David’s safe house, containing six years of illegal off-shore transactions.
“Don Cassian,” I spoke softly, my voice projecting across the silent hall. “You mock my tip jar, yet according to line forty-two of this ledger, you’ve been stealing three percent of the Mediterranean shipping revenue from the High Commission to pay off your secret gambling debts in Macau.”
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Cassian’s face drained of all color. The other four cartel bosses slowly turned their heads toward him, their eyes darkening with murderous intent.
“I may have carried a water pitcher,” I smiled, leaning over the table like a predator. “But I spent six years learning how to observe every tiny detail in a room full of arrogant men.”
