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CHAPTER7
ALESSA
The sleek town car pulls up to the red carpet outside the glitzy hotel where Madison Fontaine is hosting her Midnight in Manhattan party. I take a deep breath and smooth my hands over my evening gown—scarlet, backless, and slit to mid-thigh. My hair is swept up to show off the rubies at my throat and ears. The image of elegance and wealth...with an undertone of sensuality. Just the way I like it.
I wait as the driver opens the door and helps me out. The flash of cameras greets my arrival and reporters shout questions about the FBI case against me that I ignore with practiced poise. I keep my chin high, an enigmatic smile on my lips as I glide down the red carpet.
This is my first public appearance since being arrested, since the FBI raided my club.
Since Natalie Miller betrayed me.
I tense slightly at the thought of her name before forcing myself to relax. I can't show any weakness, not here. Tonight is about reestablishing myself in society, proving I'm as untouchable as ever despite the snakes snapping at my heels, trying to bring me down. I need to show I'm still in control.
Still queen of this damn city.
Inside, the soaring lobby glitters with light fracturing off crystals and diamonds. Men in tuxedos and women draped in designer gowns and jewels mill about, sipping cocktails handed to them by servers in crisp white shirts. I snag a glass of Dom Perignon from one as I take in the view.
It's time to work the room. I move through the crowd, bestowing a smile here, an air-kiss there, exchanging greetings with those who approach me. The conversation flows, light and meaningless, all about appearances.
But I can feel the undercurrent. The discreet stares, the guarded reactions. Like sharks, they're circling, deciding if it's safe to engage with me after the lurid headlines surrounding my arrest. Wondering if I'm still in favor with the Mancini Family, or if they should keep their distance.
I'm wondering that myself. Lucia has been difficult to catch these last few days, and the case is proceeding against me, as far as I know.
Madison Fontaine herself eventually deigns to approach, air-kissing the empty space next to my cheeks. Her smile is bright and empty. "Alessa! Darling! I didn't think you'd be able to make it."
Bitch. I keep my tone smooth. "Of course. I wouldn't miss it." I gesture around. "It looks utterly sublime. You've really outdone yourself this year."
She preens. "Why thank you."
We exchange a few more empty pleasantries before she glides off to gossip about me. I resist the urge to roll my eyes and turn to observe the crowd again, resisting the dark thoughts that press in.
I built my reputation among these people. My club catered to the most elite women in the city, providing everything they desired behind closed doors. I connected with CEOs, politicians, celebrities...now half of these ingrates won't even meet my gaze.
Maybe I shouldn't have come tonight. I knew what it would be like, how they would close ranks and shut me out. But I needed to show my influence hasn't waned. That my arrest was just some...minor inconvenience. A tiny misunderstanding.
I'm still Alessa de Luca. This city still belongs to me. That's the message I wanted to send tonight. But as the night drags on, it becomes apparent the message hasn't landed. The subtle slights continue, the conversations that awkwardly end when I approach, the circles that shift to exclude me.
I keep my polite, aloof mask in place, but anger simmers beneath it. These people welcomed me into the fold when it suited them to have the influential Alessa de Luca at their soirees and galas. They enjoyed the panache and style I brought, never questioning the darker roots of my wealth and connections. Now I'm shunned for the very underworld ties that once attracted them, that added an illicit thrill that they all secretly craved.
Fools, all of them. If they believe I'll be cast out so easily, reduced to groveling for their approval, they're sorely mistaken. The roots of my influence run deeper than they can imagine. I was raised amidst far more dangerous sharks than these.
And when I regain what is mine they'll come scurrying back, eager once more for my favor. The Ruby Realm is shut for the time being, but Lucia has promised to work on getting it back into my hands.
Soon enough I've had enough of this charade of civility. The whispers, the veiled insults, the pretense...I need to be somewhere else. Somewherereal.
Whatever that means.
* * *
The next evening finds me making my way downtown to Anna's Kitchen, the soup kitchen where I volunteer every Wednesday. Turning down the alley where it's located, I brace myself, unsure if I'll truly be embraced or just tolerated—or worse, turned away. The FBI's arrest made ripples everywhere. What if even this place wants to keep me at arm's length?
The thought fills me with more dread than I'd expect as I reach the back door of the building. This workmattersto me. Far more than those preening socialites and their extravagant galas.
This is real. A way to make amends for...for all of it. Everything I've been part of.
Inside, the air is warm and fragrant with today's meal—the rich aroma of beef stew. I nod to the regular kitchen staff, who glance up with quick smiles, and Anna herself, the woman who started this venture, a talented chef who decided to stop wasting those talents on the rich.
"Hey, Alessa," she says easily, as she sees me come in the door. She's setting out the condiments on the long tables. "You’re late. Get that pretty ass moving and start peeling."
