The charity gala was Aria’s first true test in the public eye, and the weight of it pressed down on her like the heavy emerald gown she wore. She stood beside Dante in the glittering ballroom of one of Manhattan’s most exclusive hotels, the crystal chandeliers casting warm golden light over hundreds of New York’s elite — businessmen, politicians, and dangerous men who ruled the underworld from the shadows. Cameras flashed relentlessly, and whispers followed them like shadows as they entered. Aria’s heart hammered against her ribs, a familiar anxiety threatening to pull her back into the terrified girl who had once cried signing the contract in Dante’s penthouse.
“Head high, sweetheart,” Dante whispered, his large hand firm and possessive on her lower back. His touch grounded her, a remind
