Chapter 4 - The Locked Ballroom
The temperature in the Grand Ballroom had dropped ten degrees the moment the heavy double mahogany doors were bolted from the outside. Classical chamber music had cut out abruptly twenty minutes ago, replaced by the nervous murmur of high society socialites, corrupted politicians, and caporegimes.
Julian Vance stood by the ice sculpture near the back of the hall, sipping vintage scotch. He was elegant, his tailored Italian tuxedo immaculate, his hair combed back with razor precision. On his right hand, caught in the chandelier's brilliance, gleamed the raven signet ring.
He glanced subtly at his wristwatch. The lethal neurotoxin was supposed to act within three minutes of ingestion. By now, the boy should have seized, foam should have poured from his mouth, and the compound should have dissolved into absolute chaos, allowing the Valenti syndicate to strike the perimeter.
Instead, the doors swung open with a thunderous crack.
Alessandro entered alone. He carried no weapon in his hands, but the terrifying aura preceding him cleared the room in an instant. Men backed against the banquet tables; women clutched their pearls, their laughter dying in their throats.
"The party is over," Alessandro declared, his voice echoing across the high-vaulted ceiling like a death toll. "I have discovered an impurity in my home."
Julian’s fingers tightened around his crystal glass, but his smile remained suave as he stepped forward. "Alessandro, brother, what’s going on? Where is Ethan? The guests are getting restless."
Alessandro walked straight toward him, ignoring the lieutenants who bowed their heads in deference. Every step sounded like a hammer striking an anvil.
"My son is upstairs, Julian," Alessandro murmured, stopping mere inches from his underboss. "Unscathed."
Julian’s mask slipped for a fraction of a millisecond. "Unscathed? Was there an accident?"
"A mistake, rather," Alessandro said smoothly, his eyes dropping down to Julian’s right hand. "Someone believed they could poison my bloodline and walk out into the night to claim the syndicate crown."
A ripple of panicked whispers surged through the crowd. Julian let out a low, patronizing chuckle, though the sweat at his temples betrayed him. "Poison? In this house? That’s impossible. Only our inner circle had access to the kitchens. If someone dared, name him, and I will personally put a bullet between his eyes."
Alessandro reached out, lightning-fast, and caught Julian’s right wrist in an iron vice. The sheer force made the older man gasp in pain, the scotch glass slipping from his fingers and shattering against the polished marble floor.
"A raven," Alessandro whispered into Julian’s ear, pulling him close so the entire ballroom could see the betrayal laid bare. "With amber eyes. A three-year-old child saw you sprinkle the dust, Julian."
Julian’s face drained of every ounce of color. In that instant, he knew the game was lost. With a desperate snarl, Julian reached beneath his left armpit for his concealed piece, but Alessandro moved like an apex predator.
A brutal knee shattered Julian’s ribs. Before the traitor could even scream, Alessandro slammed Julian’s hand against the edge of the stone serving table and twisted his wrist until bone cracked like dry twigs. The raven signet ring clattered free, spinning in a pool of spilled scotch.
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"Take him to the sub-basement," Alessandro ordered without turning around. "And make sure the doctor keeps him alive until he tells me who paid for the vial."
***
