Chapter 8 - Red Silk and RetributionThe grand ballroom of the Drake Hotel was packed tighter than it had been three weeks ago.
Every powerful figure in Illinois—politicians, real estate moguls, union leaders, and society elites—had gathered under the massive crystal chandeliers. They spoke in hushed, nervous tones, casting sidelong glances toward the main double doors every time someone new entered.
They all remembered the blood on the marble. They all remembered Ashford’s fall.
And they all knew that tonight, Alessio Ferraro was coming out with his true queen.
At exactly 8:00 PM, the double doors swung open.
Silence swept through the ballroom in a fraction of a second.
Alessio Ferraro entered first, clad in a flawless black tuxedo, his expression granite-hard and commanding. But it wasn't Alessio that stopped the room’s collective heartbeat.
It was the woman beside him.
Giana Costa walked down the grand staircase in a dress made of liquid crimson silk. It hugged every curve of her body with unapologetic perfection, framing her waist, cascading down her hips, and catching the crystal light with every step she took. Her dark hair fell in loose, elegant waves over one bare shoulder, and her lips were painted red like a warning.
She wasn't hiding anymore. She wasn't an accessory. She was an equal partner to the most dangerous man in Chicago.
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Several prominent bankers looked away immediately, terrified of catching Alessio’s eye.
Alessio didn't look at the crowd at all. His gaze was locked entirely on Giana as he offered her his arm. She placed her hand gently over his forearm, her pulse steady, her head held high.
As they reached the center of the ballroom, Mayor Sterling stepped forward, raising his glass with a nervous, ingratiating smile.
“Ferraro,” the mayor stammered slightly. “A pleasure to see you and... and your associate tonight. Quite a stunning entrance.”
Alessio stopped. He turned his head slowly toward the mayor, his voice cutting through the silent room like cold steel.
“She’s not my associate, Mr. Mayor,” Alessio said, his dark eyes burning with absolute, unyielding possession as he looked down at Giana.
“She’s my wife.”
The room went dead silent for three beats.
May you like
Before anyone could process the announcement, Alessio looked back at Giana, a rare, fierce smile touching his lips.
“And if anyone in this room ever forgets it,” Alessio added softly, loud enough for every single person to hear, “they won't live to regret it.”
