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ALESSA
The grand ballroom of this extravagant Manhattan hotel glitters with light reflected off crystal chandeliers. Standing on the raised stage at the front, I survey the room with a practiced eye. It’s all come together flawlessly—the event planning team really outdid themselves this time. The tables are draped in silver silk and adorned with centerpieces of exotic orchids and flickering candles. Waitstaff in crisp white shirts glide smoothly through the crowd balancing trays of champagne flutes and decadent hors d’oeuvres; this time I chose to leave my Ruby. An orchestra plays softly in the background, the haunting strains of the violins mingling with laughter and the clink of glasses.
A diverse crowd mingles effortlessly, a mixture of celebrities, high-society figures, and mobsters who play by their own rules. The luxurious attire of the guests—tailored tuxedos, designer gowns adorned with jewels—only adds to the dripping sense of wealth in the room.
Wealth that I intend to direct toward my auction.
“Ms. de Luca,” a well-dressed businessman greets me, offering his hand for a kiss. “You’ve truly outdone yourself this time.”
“Thank you, Mr. Russell,” I reply, a practiced smile gracing my lips as I glance around the room. As hostess, it’s essential for me to keep an eye on the dynamics at play. I’m dressed to impress in a sleek, floor-length red dress that accentuates my assets—by which I mean my confidence and power, of course. A diamond and ruby necklace sparkles above my cleavage—a gift from an admirer with connections best left unspoken—and my dark hair cascades in soft waves over my shoulders.
“Ah, Alessa!” a woman calls from across the room, her voice carrying over the din of conversation. She saunters toward me, her silk dress swishing with each step. “This is simply marvelous! Your events are always the highlight of the season.”
“Thank you, darling,” I respond warmly, embracing her briefly before releasing her back into the throng of attendees. My eyes sweep the room once more, observing the various interactions taking place: a group of mobsters whispering conspiratorially in a corner, an A-list actress laughing gaily as she flits from conversation to conversation.
“Ms. de Luca,” another guest approaches me, offering a glass of the champagne I’ve provided tonight. “What an excellent vintage. It’s divine.”
“Thank you,” I say, taking a sip and allowing the bubbles to dance on my tongue.
I spot my cousin Juno across the room, wearing a silver gown that makes her look rather like she’s frozen in ice. She’s deep in conversation with Caitlin, who gives me a bright grin and a finger-wiggle wave. I wave back, my heart lifting. Those two are a force to be reckoned with. I make a mental note to touch base with them later; Juno mentioned a packaging issue with our latest shipment of champagne for the Ruby Realm that I need to look into—the very vintage I’ve used up here tonight for this crowd.
For now though, it’s showtime.
I step up to the microphone and the babble of voices dies down. “Welcome, friends,” I begin, my voice clear and strong. “Thank you all for being here tonight in support of the Safe Harbor Society.” A smattering of refined applause. “I’ll keep this brief, as I know you’re all eager to start bidding.” A ripple of genteel laughter. “We have some incredible auction items lined up, including a week-long Mediterranean cruise…”
As I speak, I scan the room, taking in the attendees. Politicians rubbing elbows with celebrities, socialites mingling with made men…my world is not one of simplicities. But despite some questionable backgrounds, they all know to be on their best behavior tonight. This event is too visible for anything uncouth.
Many faces I see are familiar—regular patrons of the Ruby Realm who enjoy its luxuries perhaps a bit too much. Speaking of, there’s Alicia Crane, a Congresswoman who frequents my club. She’s accompanied by someone I don’t recognize, a striking blonde in an elegant black gown. I’ll have to find out whosheis after my speech. Alicia has...diverse tastes when it comes to companionship.
I wrap up my remarks and cede the stage to the auctioneer, a lively little gentleman who immediately gets the bidding war started on that Mediterranean cruise. As patrons start vying for extravagant prizes, I make my way through the crowd, exchanging air kisses and pleasantries, careful not to smudge my ruby-red lipstick. And a bit of harmless flirtation here and there smooths even the most ruffled feathers.
I’m intercepted by Lucia Rossi, the razor-sharp attorney who works for the Mancini Family. “Bellissima serata,” she says approvingly. “Once again, you’ve outdone yourself with this event. The Boss sends his regards as well.”
I smile. “A wonderful night for a good cause. Hopefully we’ll bring in even more than last year.”
We could bring in double, if Don Mancini ever cared to open up his wallet for a cause like this. But I don’t let that thought show on my face. As far as Antonio Mancini is concerned, the Family exists to make him rich.
And Lucia is his cousin. She would certainly report any disloyalty straight into his ear.
Before I can continue circulating, Alicia Crane appears at my elbow. “Alessa, darling! You look magnificent.” Her gaze sweeps over me appreciatively. Under other circumstances I might return the sentiment, but Alicia is a little tedious, I’m sad to say. The kind of woman with a bone-deep shame streak. Me? I’m shameless. So we’d never work beyond a fling, and Alicia also tends to get a littleobsessive.
“I’m so glad you could make it,” I say politely. The blonde I saw her with earlier materializes at her elbow. “And this must be a friend of yours,” I say with a smile, as the two of them stand there.
Odd.
Alicia clears her throat. “Yes. I’d…like to introduce you to Natalie Moreau. She just moved back to New York recently from the south of France.”
I take in Natalie with interest, her intelligent brown eyes and the gentle curve of her throat as she swallows. But something seems off. There’s a hesitance in her face that speaks of discomfort.
Natalie extends her hand, and as our fingers touch, a jolt of electricity shoots through me. She’s really quite lovely, and I’m immediately attracted to her, but something in her eyes suggests a challenge.
And I do so love a challenge.
I give her my most charismatic smile. “Welcome to our little soiree, Ms. Moreau,” I say.
“Thank you,” Natalie replies, her voice cool and measured. “It’s certainly an impressive event.”
“Do you think so?” I counter, feeling a sudden urge to challenge her. “I’msoglad.”
