Silks and Bullets

Chapter 4: The Runway of Wolves

The Metropolitan Museum of Art was a sea of flashing cameras, champagne flutes, and high society. But to Elena, it felt like walking into a gladiator arena.

She wore a breathtaking, backless emerald silk gown of her own design. It clung to her curves perfectly, the train sweeping gracefully behind her. Beside her, Julian looked devastatingly handsome, his dark eyes scanning the crowd with lethal alertness while his hand remained firmly anchored to her waist.

"Smile, *mia cara*," Julian whispered smoothly, nodding to a city councilman as they walked past. "You look like you're heading to an execution."

"I feel like I am," Elena muttered through a tight, practiced smile.

Suddenly, the crowd parted, and an older man with silver hair and a cruel, calculating smile approached them. Beside him were two heavy-set men whose suits couldn't hide the bulk of shoulder holsters.

"Julian," the older man purred, his voice dripping with false warmth. "I was shocked to hear the news. The bachelor king finally brought home a queen."

"Don Valenti," Julian replied, his grip on Elena’s waist tightening just a fraction. His posture didn't change, but the air around him instantly turned to ice. "I believe you haven't met my wife, Elena."

Don Valenti’s eyes raked over Elena, sharp and predatory. "A beautiful girl. I hear she has a marvelous eye for design. It’s a shame about her boutique in SoHo. A terrible accident. New York is becoming so unsafe these days."

Elena felt a surge of cold fury mask her fear. She stepped forward, tilting her chin up. "Accidents happen, Don Valenti. But good foundations survive. My husband is making sure my new studio is completely secure. Untouchable, you might say."

Valenti’s smile tightened, his eyes narrowing at her defiance. Julian, however, looked down at her, a look of genuine, dark pride flashing across his face.

"We should go find our seats," Julian said, his voice a quiet threat as he locked eyes with the rival boss. "Enjoy the evening, Valenti. Don't choke on the caviar."

As they walked away, Elena felt her heart pounding against her ribs. "How did I do?" she whispered.

"You were perfect," Julian murmured, his thumb stroking her hip. "Too perfect. Valenti isn't going to let this go. He knows you're my weakness now."