Silks and Bullets

Chapter 8: The Gala at the Docks

The opportunity arose a week later. The annual Maritime Charity Gala was held right on the pier, inside a glass-walled pavilion overlooking the very shipping containers Valenti used for his empire. It was the perfect cover: high society mingling with old port money.

Elena looked spectacular in a stark white, asymmetrical gown with a sharp, geometric neckline. Beneath the flawless tailoring of Julian’s custom tuxedo was Elena’s carbon-fiber lining a secret shared only between them.

"The manifests are kept in the administrative office on the third floor of the main warehouse,"

Julian whispered into her ear as they danced slowly to a jazz quartet. His hand was warm against her bare back. "Marco and my tech guy are jamming the security feeds for exactly six minutes. I need to get up there, clone the hard drive, and get back."

"I'll keep Valenti distracted," Elena said, her heart accelerating, though her face remained a mask of serene elegance.

"Elena, if he suspects anything......."

"He won't," she interrupted, looking into his dark eyes. "Trust your wife, Don Salvatore."

When the song ended, Julian slipped into the shadows of the pavilion. Elena took a breath, grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, and turned toward the VIP lounge where Don Valenti sat surrounded by his capos.

"Don Valenti," Elena purred, gliding into the room. The men immediately stood, their hands instinctively moving toward their jackets until they recognized her.

Valenti’s eyes narrowed, but he offered a tight, superficial smile. "Signora Salvatore. You look radiant. Where is your shadow tonight?"

"Julian is discussing shipping tariffs with the city comptroller," Elena lied effortlessly, taking a delicate sip of her champagne. "Men and their business. It bores me. I wanted to talk to someone with actual taste. I was admiring the architecture of your main warehouse out there. The mid-century industrial structure is fascinating. I’m thinking of using a similar aesthetic for my next show."

Valenti, fueled by ego and the desire to assert dominance over Julian's wife, took the bait. "Ah, a woman who appreciates infrastructure. That warehouse has been in my family for forty years, my dear. Let me tell you about the history of this pier..."

Elena listened, nodding and smiling, her eyes secretly tracking the digital watch on her wrist.

*Three minutes. Four minutes. Five minutes.*

Right as the six-minute mark struck, a sudden, loud commotion broke out near the pavilion entrance.