Chapter 4 - The Dinner of the Wolves
The ballroom of the DeLuca estate glittered under the light of three massive crystal chandeliers, echoing with the polite, venomous laughter of the city’s criminal elite.
It was Carmine’s annual autumn gala—a forced gathering of capos, politicians, judges, and syndicate bosses who smiled while holding metaphorical knives behind their backs.
And standing right beside Carmine DeLuca, dressed in a backless emerald silk gown that clung to her curves like liquid jade, was Ivy.
The transformation from bruised night maid to high-society siren had taken six hours of intensive styling by Mrs. Gable’s team. The makeup artists had performed miracles, completely masking the fading bruises on her throat with gold-dusted contour and wrapping a diamond choker around her neck that cost more than her entire apartment building.
When she entered the ballroom on Carmine’s arm, every conversation in the room flatlined.
Whispers rippled through the crowd like wind through dry grass. Who is she? Is she Carmine’s new mistress? Where did he find her?
Viktor Vance, standing by the champagne fountain with a smirk plastered across his face, raised his glass as Carmine and Ivy approached.
"Carmine," Viktor purred, his accent thick and oily. "You always manage to surprise us. I didn't take you for a man who brings his new acquisitions to a business dinner."
Carmine didn't blink. His hand rested firmly, possessively at the small of Ivy’s back, his thumb pressing against the silk of her dress.
"Viktor," Carmine replied, his tone dripping with glacial courtesy. "Allow me to introduce Ivy Miller. My new executive associate. She has a remarkable talent for uncovering things people try very hard to hide."
Viktor’s eyes flickered over Ivy, a predatory flash crossing his features. He reached out, grabbing her hand to press a greasy, lingering kiss to her knuckles.
"A pleasure, Miss Miller," Viktor purred, his thumb deliberately dragging across her pulse point. "I feel like you and I have unfinished business. You look... familiar."
Ivy’s heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. Every muscle in her body screamed to pull her hand away. She could still feel the phantom weight of Rocco’s hands around her throat.
Before she could pull back, Carmine’s grip tightened on her waist.
With blinding speed, Carmine’s free hand shot out, catching Viktor’s wrist in an iron grip. The sound of bone grinding against bone echoed sharply beneath the swell of the orchestra music.
Viktor’s face drained of color, his smirk twisting into a snarl of pain. "DeLuca—what the hell are you doing?"
Carmine leaned in close, his face inches from Viktor’s ear, his voice carrying a deadly, quiet resonance that made the surrounding capos step back in terror.
"Never touch what belongs to me, Viktor," Carmine whispered, loud enough for half the room to hear. "Not with your hands. Not with your eyes. And certainly not through your lapdogs."
Viktor yanked his hand back, cradling his bruised wrist, his eyes blazing with humiliation and fury. "You're starting a war over a cleaner, Carmine? You've gone soft!"
Carmine turned his head slowly, a terrifying, humorless smile touching the corners of his lips.
"I haven't gone soft, Viktor. I’ve simply decided to clean house."
Suddenly, the massive double doors of the ballroom slammed open.
Four of Carmine’s elite enforcers marched in, dragging a bound, gagged, and bloody figure between them. The man’s clothes were shredded, his face unrecognizable beneath layers of dried blood and dirt.
The room gasped.
It was Rocco.
The enforcer everyone thought had been permanently "relocated" out of the city.
Viktor’s face went chalk white. The glass of champagne slipped from his fingers, shattering against the marble floor with a sharp crash.
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Carmine stepped forward, leaving Ivy standing under the chandelier like a queen surveying her court, and looked down at the trembling wreck at his feet.
"You dropped something, Viktor," Carmine said smoothly, his voice ringing across the silent hall. "Or rather, your payroll ledger dropped it in my lap."
