Chapter 7 - The Walk Down the Center Aisle

Every single head in the five-hundred-person assembly whipped around in stunned unison.

Walking down the central red-carpeted aisle, radiating the cold, untouchable authority of an apex sovereign king, was Luca Romano.

He wore an immaculate, custom-tailored charcoal three-piece tuxedo from Savile Row, his posture straight as forged titanium, his slate-gray eyes sweeping across the room with a lethal, absolute dominance that commanded instant, terrified respect.

And walking proudly at his right hand, her arm linked securely through his, was Mila Hayes.

Mila was breathtaking.

She wore a bespoke, backless crimson silk evening gown that hugged her slender figure, her chestnut hair styled in elegant, cascading Hollywood waves, wearing a pair of five-carat diamond drop earrings that caught the chandelier light with brilliant fire. Her chin was held high, her hazel eyes blazing with fearless, sovereign confidence.

Walking behind them was eighty-two-year-old Arthur Pendelton, flanked by Lead Special Agent Marcus Cole of the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s Public Corruption Task Force and four armed federal marshals in tactical armor.

Bradley Vance’s smug smile instantly froze on his face.

Every single drop of color drained from his cheeks until he looked like a corpse draped in a designer tuxedo.

"R-Romano...?!" Bradley stammered, his voice carrying through the live podium microphone with a high-pitched, pathetic crack. "What... what are you doing here?! This is a private corporate gala! Security! Remove these trespassers immediately!"

None of the eight private security guards in the room moved an inch.

Instead, the guards stepped backward, saluting Luca Romano and the federal marshals with disciplined, professional respect.

Luca and Mila walked up the carpeted stage stairs with steady, unhurried grace, stepping directly up to the center of the platform.

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Luca stepped behind the secondary microphone, looking out over the five hundred stunned executives, politicians, and journalists.

"You've been looking for my executive assistant, Vance," Luca’s deep baritone rolled across the acoustic hall like rolling thunder. "She’s here. What would you like to ask her?"