Chapter 14 - Dinner with the Vipers
The Union Club on East 69th Street was an old-money fortress built on stolen fortunes and polite betrayals.
When Matteo's armored Maybach pulled up to the curb, four valets rushed forward, but Marco cleared them away with a single glare.
Matteo stepped out first, adjusting the cuffs of his bespoke midnight-blue tuxedo before extending his hand to me.
I took it, stepping onto the pavement under the flashing camera lights of two private society photographers.
My gown was black silk that pooled gracefully at my feet, the open back displaying the flawless, unblemished skin that had once been hidden beneath bandages.
Around my neck rested three strands of black South Sea pearls, a gift Matteo had placed around my throat moments before we departed.
"Breathe, Alexandra," Matteo whispered as we walked up the stone steps together.
"You are not the victim here; you are the creditor coming to collect."
The grand dining hall fell completely silent the second the oak doors opened for us.
Dozens of Manhattan's elite froze mid-sentence, their wine glasses suspended in the air.
At the head of the long mahogany banquet table sat Arthur Vance, his silver hair neatly styled and his posture immaculate.
Beside him sat Eleanor Vance, my mother, draped in emeralds, her eyes widening in sheer horror as she saw me alive and unbowed.
"Alexandra?" my mother gasped, dropping her linen napkin onto her plate.
"Eleanor, be quiet," Arthur snapped under his breath, though his own face had paled beneath his country-club tan.
Arthur stood up slowly, attempting to summon the booming authority that had terrorized my childhood.
"Matteo De Luca," Arthur said, ignoring me entirely.
"I believe this is a private gathering for legacy members only."
"The De Luca family bought forty-two percent of this club's mortgage thirty minutes ago, Arthur," Matteo said, his voice echoing smoothly across the cavernous room.
"Which means you are dining in my dining room, eating food paid for by my credit line."
Arthur clenched his fists against the table, his eyes finally darting to me with venomous disdain.
"You dare bring my disgraceful daughter here after what happened to Julian?" Arthur hissed.
"You should be in mourning, girl, not parading around on the arm of a thug."
May you like
Matteo took half a step forward, the temperature in the room instantly plunging toward zero.
"Speak to her like that again," Matteo said, each word falling like a lead weight, "and I will tear your tongue from your throat before your security can draw their weapons."
