Born of the Storm

Chapter 16

        The black town car glided through the crowded streets of Manhattan, its tinted windows concealing me from the world outside. I sat back, smoothing the fabric of my dress—midnight blue silk, tailored perfectly to my figure, with an elegant slit that ran just high enough to be dangerous but not indecent. I wore diamond earrings, understated but catching the light with every turn of my head, and my hair was swept into a loose updo, soft tendrils framing my face.

        The car slowed as we neared the entrance of the gala, the crowd of paparazzi already gathering in front of the grand hotel. It was one of those high-profile events—the kind where the elite mingled, deals were made, and family alliances were solidified with champagne toasts and whispered promises. Normally, I would avoid these gatherings, but tonight, it was a necessary distraction. A cover.

        The car came to a halt, and I took a deep breath. This was a performance, after all—one I'd perfected over the years. As the door opened, the cool New York air hit my skin, and I stepped out, greeted by the blinding flashes of cameras and the murmur of the crowd. For a moment, everything was a blur of lights and noise.

        Then the gasps started.

        I kept my expression neutral, lips slightly curved into a polite smile as I moved toward the entrance. The paparazzi were relentless, calling out my name, the rapid-fire clicks of their cameras filling the air as flashes exploded around me. I could feel the eyes on me, whispering to each other as I walked past.

         They all were curious. The Moretti name still carried weight here in New York, especially among these circles. They knew who I was—Teresa Moretti, the one who had always kept her cards close to her chest. Tonight, they wondered what I was doing here, but none of them would dare ask outright.

        I could hear snippets of conversation as I passed, the murmured "Is that Teresa Moretti?" and "Is she really the daughter of the Moretti's?" I ignored them all, my focus straight ahead as I entered the grand ballroom. The music, soft jazz, floated in the background, and the room was a display of wealth—chandeliers, crystal glasses, and gowns that cost more than most people made in a year.

        As I made my way further inside, I could feel the weight of the stares. Men stopped mid-conversation, their gazes lingering a bit too long. Women whispered to each other behind champagne glasses, their eyes narrowing. It was the reaction I had expected, the one I had counted on. In this world, image was everything, and tonight, I was playing my part perfectly.

        In the distance, I spotted familiar faces—businessmen who had once done deals with my family, old allies of my parents. They had no idea why I was really here. To them, this was just another Moretti making her rounds, keeping the family's presence alive in the world of business and high society.

        But my mind was elsewhere—This gathering was a distraction, a show to make sure no one suspected my true purpose in New York. But soon enough, the mask would come off, and I would be back to hunting down the truth.

        I turned, catching Luca's eyes from across the room. He stood near the back, blending into the shadows, ever watchful. He gave a slight nod, his way of telling me everything was under control—for now. I returned the gesture, the tension in my chest loosening just a little.

        I glided through the crowd, the soft murmurs of conversation and clinking of glasses creating a low hum around me. The ballroom was packed with the city's elite, all of them dressed to impress, their wealth and power dripping from every word and gesture. The air smelled of expensive perfume and cigars, with a hint of tension underneath the glittering facade.