POV: Aria
The second public event was a private dinner.
City councilman Arthur Pace's home. Upper East Side. The kind of house that had its own name and a history that predated the American Revolution. I'd dressed in deep burgundy, long sleeves, modest neckline, Dominic's eyes had lingered for a fraction of a second longer than necessary.
The guest list was carefully curated. Financial players. A federal judge. Two men I recognized from Dominic's briefing folder as business fronts for the Vercetti operation, their photographs were burned into my memory.
I played my role, I smiled, made small talk, complimented the hostess on her art collection, that was genuine, because she had good taste. I laughed at jokes that weren't funny. Looked at Dominic with the soft affection of a new bride.
