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Chapter 10 - The Legend of the Blind Queen

The annual Moretti Gala was held in the grand ballroom of the Bellevue Hotel—a spectacular event that brought together the city's political elite, business moguls, and high-society patrons.

I stood at the top of the grand marble staircase, wearing a stunning white silk gown that draped over my shoulders like liquid silver. My grandmother's silver pin was held in my hair, and on my finger sat a flawless, deep blue sapphire ring that Alessandro had given me on our wedding day.

I didn't need my cane tonight.

Alessandro stood beside me, his arm supporting mine, his presence solid and unyielding as we looked out over the crowded ballroom below.

"They are all looking at you, Viola," he whispered, his head tilted down toward my ear.

"Let them look," I said, a small, confident smile touching my lips. "I cannot see them anyway."

"They are not looking because of your dress, mia regina," he murmured, his grip on my arm tightening in a gesture of pure, absolute devotion. "They are looking because they know that the most powerful man in this room belongs entirely to the woman who can smell the truth in their hearts."

As we descended the steps together, the crowd parted in absolute, respectful silence. There were no sharp whispers, no arrogant remarks, and no drunken challenges tonight.

The city of Philadelphia had finally learned that the true power of the Moretti Syndicate didn't lie in the strength of its soldiers or the depth of its vaults.

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It lay in the quiet, unbreakable bond between the ruthless boss and the blind girl who had taught him how to breathe.

The Fragrance of Power

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