Chapter 7 - INTO THE LION’S DEN
The annual Chicago Maritime Charity Gala at Navy Pier was the premier high-society event of the winter. Five hundred of the city’s most influential figures—senators, judges, shipping moguls, and hidden crime lords—gathered beneath the soaring glass arches of the Grand Ballroom.
The grand entrance went dead silent when Dominic Vale arrived.
Dominic looked regal in a custom Tom Ford tuxedo, but all eyes were pinned on the woman at his side. Emily Parker was breathtaking in a midnight-blue velvet gown with an open back and a sweetheart neckline, her hair swept up in an elegant chignon. On her finger, the enormous diamond sparkled beneath the crystal chandeliers.
“Keep your chin up,” Dominic murmured against her ear, his hand firm and warm on the small of her back. “Every camera in the Midwest is watching. You are the future queen of Vale Shipping tonight.”
“I feel like a lamb walking into a slaughterhouse,” Emily whispered through a dazzling, practiced smile.
“I am the wolf, Emily,” Dominic replied, his voice a low, steady rumble. “Volkov is merely a scavenger.”
As they moved through the ballroom, Emily noticed subtle tactical movements among the waiters and security staff. Dominic’s men in tailored suits occupied every exit, their hands resting discreetly inside their jackets.
Suddenly, Emily’s eyes caught a waiter carrying a tray of champagne near the VIP balcony. His uniform was flawless, but his posture was wrong. He wasn't looking at the guests; his gaze was fixed entirely on the lighting rig suspended seventy feet above the central stage where the mayor was about to speak.
Worse, peeking beneath his white cuff was a distinct tattoo: a crowned bear clutching an anchor—the signature insignia of Volkov’s inner circle.
“Dominic,” Emily whispered, pressing closer to him as if sharing an intimate joke. “The waiter by Pillar Four. He’s not watching the floor. He has a detonator wire running up his left sleeve.”
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Dominic didn’t hesitate. He keyed his lapel mic. “Marco. Balcony grid. Package is live.”
Before Marco could move, the ballroom’s main power grid exploded in a shower of white sparks. Panic erupted instantly. Screams echoed across the hall as the massive crystal chandeliers plummeted toward the crowded floor.
