The Delorme family's annual gala was held at the most luxurious hotel in the city.
In previous years, I had attended as Adrian's wife.
I wore whatever dress his assistant chose for me and stood beside him with a smile.
I didn't have to say a word.
This year was different.
This year, I came as the Blackwell heir.
Before the gala began, luxury cars had already lined the hotel entrance.
Members of the Delorme family, the Montclair family, and other mafia families arrived in formal wear, walking into the ballroom in small groups.
Isabella stood at the entrance greeting guests, wearing a red gown and a radiant smile.
She thought she was the hostess of the evening.
30 minutes after the gala began, a stretch limousine stopped at the hotel entrance.
The door opened, and I stepped out.
