Chapter 5 - Into the Lion’s Den
The grand ballroom glittered with crystal chandeliers, champagne fountains, and the cream of Chicago society draped in designer gowns and expensive jewels. As Vincent and Emily entered, the ambient chatter of the room dropped several decibels. Every eye turned toward them.
Emily felt a brief tremor of panic, but Vincent’s hand at the small of her back provided an anchor of solid, unwavering warmth.
Near the far bar, standing beside a towering ice sculpture, were Tyler and Vanessa. Vanessa was breathtaking in a shimmering silver sheath dress, but the moment she saw Emily walk in on the arm of Vincent DeLuca, the glass of champagne in her hand nearly slipped from her fingers.
Tyler’s face turned an ugly shade of crimson. His jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched in his cheek.
"Stay here for a moment," Vincent murmured to Emily, leaning down. "I need to have a quick word with the city’s district attorney."
As Vincent stepped away to speak with a group of older men in tailored suits near the dais, Emily stood by a marble pillar, taking a sip of sparkling water.
She didn't have to wait long.
"Well, well. Look who decided she belongs in polite company," Tyler’s voice sneered from behind her. He had abandoned Vanessa for a moment, marching straight up to Emily with a look of pure venom. "Did DeLuca buy you that dress at a costume shop, or did you have to earn it on your knees?"
Emily didn't flinch. She turned slowly, her gaze cool, level, and entirely devoid of the trembling fear he was used to seeing.
"Careful, Tyler," Emily said, her voice calm and melodic. "Your desperation is showing. It doesn't match your expensive suit."
Tyler bristled, stepping closer into her personal space. "You think you’re untouchable now because some criminal felt sorry for you? Everyone in this room knows you’re just a waitress from a diner who lucked into a sugar daddy. The moment he gets bored of you, you’ll be right back scrubbing floors."
Before Emily could deliver the crushing line she had prepared, a cold, lethal voice cut through the air behind Tyler.
"She won't be scrubbing anything, Tyler. Because as of five minutes ago, your firm's accounts have been frozen by federal regulators."
Tyler spun around. Vincent stood there, hands casually tucked into his trouser pockets, flanked by two federal agents in dark suits and Marcus.
May you like
The color drained entirely from Tyler’s face. "What... what are you talking about?"
Vincent smiled, a cold, merciless expression that made the surrounding guests step back in sudden terror. "Ask your future father-in-law. Or better yet, ask the SEC. Embezzlement leaves a very clear paper trail, Tyler. And unlike your insults, federal indictments don't wash off in the shower."
