Chapter 8 - Silk and Steel
The sun dipped below the Chicago skyline, bleeding a bruised violet and burnt orange light across the massive windows of the Pellagrini estate. Upstairs in the master suite, the doors to the walk-in closet stood wide open, revealing racks of designer dresses, tailored suits, and silk garments that looked like they belonged in a museum rather than a wardrobe.
Mrs. Gable stood beside me with a gentle, encouraging smile, holding up a floor-length evening gown made of midnight-blue silk that shimmered faintly under the recessed lighting.
“Mr. Pellagrini selected this himself,” Mrs. Gable said softly, her hands smoothing the delicate fabric. “He said blue brings out the color of your eyes.”
I stared at the dress, feeling a surreal wave of detachment wash over me. Less than twenty-four hours ago, I was wearing a stained diner uniform, scrubbing grease off my shoes, and wondering how I was going to pay for my daughter's next round of blood tests. Now, I was standing in a fortress of wealth, preparing to dine with the underworld elite in a designer gown bought by a mafia boss who claimed I was his wife.
“It’s beautiful, Mrs. Gable,” I murmured, stepping into the cool silk. “Too beautiful for someone like me.”
“There is no one like you, child,” Mrs. Gable replied firmly, zipping the back of the dress with practiced ease. “Mr. Pellagrini has spent years building walls around himself to keep the world out. The moment he brought you through those gates, those walls came down. Don't underestimate what you mean to him.”
When I finally stepped out of the bedroom and walked down the grand staircase, Alexander was waiting at the bottom.
He had changed into a classic black tuxedo, his white shirt crisp and unblemished, a silver silk tie neatly knotted at his collar. He looked impossibly handsome, dangerous, and refined—a prince of darkness waiting at the gates of his kingdom.
He looked up at the sound of my footsteps.
For a second, Alexander stopped breathing. His dark eyes swept over the midnight-blue silk, tracking the curve of the dress up to my face. A raw, naked hunger flashed across his features, instantly replaced by a deep, reverent awe that made my knees weak.
He walked up the first two steps to meet me, offering his hand.
“You take my breath away, Megan,” he whispered, his voice thick with unexpressed emotion as I slipped my fingers into his palm.
“You clean up all right yourself, Mr. Pellagrini,” I managed a tight, nervous smile.
May you like
“Stay close to me tonight,” he murmured, his thumb stroking the back of my hand as he turned us toward the heavy oak doors leading out to the courtyard where a black limousine waited in the gathering dusk. “Every eye in that room will be on you. Let them look. Let them see what I’m willing to burn this city down to protect.”
---
