Chapter 16 - The Reckoning on the Plaza Balcony
The heavy crystal chandeliers overhead seemed to tremble,
as the silence inside the Plaza ballroom grew so thick,
you could hear the champagne bubbles fizzing in four hundred forgotten glasses.
Nikolai Romanov’s hand froze inside his custom velvet jacket,
his thumb hovering inches from the grip of his concealed weapon,
his cold blue eyes wide with pure disbelief.
Carmine stood beside him,
gasping like a fish pulled out of water,
his hands gripping the gold balcony railing so hard his knuckles turned white.
"You're... you're supposed to be dead..."
Carmine choked out,
his voice cracking across the silent hall.
"The distillery was destroyed!"
"My men saw the fire!"
Gabriel didn't rush.
He walked slowly toward the curved marble staircase leading up to the VIP balcony,
each step deliberate,
heavy,
and filled with absolute authority.
His polished leather shoes made a firm,
rhythmic thud against the marble steps.
I walked beside him,
my head held high,
the heavy green silk of my gown swaying softly around my ankles.
"Your men were sloppy,
Carmine,"
Gabriel said,
his voice echoing effortlessly through the massive room.
"Just like your sniper on Tuesday night."
"Just like your poisoner at the pharmacy."
"And just like your offshore wire transfers to Panama."
Nikolai Romanov took a step back,
his eyes shifting rapidly between Gabriel,
the doors,
and the dozens of high-society guests staring up at them in shock.
"Moretti,"
Nikolai said,
trying to force a calm,
diplomatic tone into his thick Russian accent.
"This is a private charity gala."
"You are creating a scene in front of senators and foreign dignitaries."
"I didn't come here to cause a scene,
Nikolai,"
Gabriel replied,
reaching the top of the balcony stairs and stopping five feet from the Russian boss.
"I came to deliver a message to every man in this room who thought my spine was the only thing holding this family together."
Gabriel raised his hand,
snapping his fingers softly.
Immediately,
the heavy mahogany doors at all four corners of the ballroom swung shut simultaneously.
Fifty armed men in dark suits stepped out from behind the velvet drapes,
led by Vincent Kane.
Every exit was locked.
Every security guard belonging to the Plaza had been quietly disarmed and replaced.
The guests gasped in terror,
pulling back into tight groups.
"You can't do this here!"
Carmine shrieked,
his mind completely unraveling.
"The city council will destroy you!"
"The city council is currently reviewing the tax fraud documents my nurse sent to the Federal District Attorney twenty minutes ago,"
Gabriel said,
a cold,
predatory smile touching his lips.
"Along with the recorded phone calls between you and Nikolai planning the execution of three city judges."
Nikolai’s jaw tightened.
He realized in a single,
shattering second that he had been completely outmaneuvered.
"Shoot him!"
May you like
Nikolai suddenly screamed to his personal bodyguards.
"Kill them both!"
