Chapter 13
THEA
The Belvedere looks a hell of a lot different when you’re not scrubbing toilets.
I’ve walked into this building hundreds of times, though always through the service entrance, always in my uniform, always invisible.
But tonight, stepping out of Gabriel’s town car in a gown that’s like nothing I’ve ever worn before, the gold-trimmed revolving doors feel like portals to another dimension.
Gabriel’s hand settles at the small of my back. His touch is warm, steady, and possessive.
“Ready?”
I’m absolutely not ready.
“Sure.”
The doorman—Marcus, who used to look the other way whenever I snuck out with day-old pastries from the buffet line—doesn’t even recognize me. He tips his hat with a polite “Good evening” and gestures toward the doors for us to enter.
We make our way to the grand ballroom, which has been completely transformed.
Crystal chandeliers blaze, a string quartet plays something elegant and vaguely Vivaldi.
There are women in gowns that probably cost more than most cars, and men in tuxedos that fit like second skins.
Everyone is dripping in diamonds and old money.
Old blood money, if Gabriel is any indication.
When we enter, they all turn to look.
At us.
At me.
The expressions on their faces silently say I’m not supposed to be there, that I don’t fit in. My first instinct is to shrink, to make myself smaller, and apologize for existing.
But Gabriel’s hand presses more firmly against my back, keeping me upright.
“Eyes forward,” he says quietly. Then, as if he can read my thoughts, he says, “Chin up. You belong here.”
I don’t. I can tell right away that I don’t.
All the same, I tilt my chin up and square my shoulders.
We move through the ballroom, the crowd parting like we’re royalty. Conversations pause. Heads turn. I catch fragments and whispers.
“That’s Moretti.”
“Yeah, but who is she?”
“He’s barely been in public lately, let alone with a woman.”
My heart is pounding so hard that I’m sure everyone can hear it.
Then I spot Maria, one of the housekeepers I used to work with.
She’s carrying a tray of champagne flutes, her uniform identical to the one I used to wear.
For a moment, I debate trying to hide so she doesn’t see me, but I don’t get the chance.
She turns, her eyes locking onto me. I can tell that she’s confused at first, trying to figure out if this woman who looks like Thea is actually Thea.
Then it clicks. Her mouth drops open.
I give her a tiny, helpless shrug, and she nearly drops the tray.
“Thea?” she mouths from across the room.
Before I can respond, Gabriel is guiding me farther into the ballroom while Maria disappears behind a cluster of guests.
A thought occurs to me as Gabriel leads me through the crowd.
I could escape from here. I could say I need to use the restroom, find Maria, and tell her what’s going on.
But would she even believe me?
What about just slipping out? I could make a run for it, rush out onto the street and scream until someone comes to help. But could I even make it a few feet without Gabriel noticing?
Right in the middle of my scheming, another thought occurs to me—what if I don’t want to leave? What if I want to stay right here by Gabriel’s side?
“Are you alright, Thea?” He turns to look at me, leaning over just a bit, his hand still on my back.
Despite the whirlwind of thoughts racing through me, his touch calms me down.
“Yeah. I’m okay. Just a lot to process.”
He regards me for a moment, giving me that look, the one that makes me think he can see straight into me. But if he suspects something, he doesn’t say it.
“You’ll be fine,” he says, “once you get used to the over-the-top nature of these events.”
I can’t run. Not now. I imagine myself rushing through the crowd, making it outdoors, and screaming my head off while wearing this magnificent gown. I’d look like a crazy person.
And another thought—what if he’s not lying about keeping me safe? What if I really am in danger?
The back gate is still unlocked as far as I know. That means I still have an escape plan. I’ll make it through the night, reassess tomorrow. No need to do anything rash right now.
Gabriel leads me through the crowd with absolute confidence, nodding at faces I don’t recognize, murmuring names that I won’t remember.
“Congressman Dalton. Mrs. Chen. Anthony—so good to see you.”
Everyone he meets responds with surprising warmth, as if Gabriel is an old friend and not the head of a criminal empire. Do they all respect him? Or do they fear him? Either way, he has power over these people that I don’t understand.
On the other hand, they all seem to regard me with poorly veiled curiosity.
“And who is this?” asks a silver-haired woman in emerald silk, her smile sharp.
“This is Thea,” Gabriel says. No last name. No explanation.
The woman offers a tight smile in reply. “Charming.”
We move on.
I’m starting to feel like an exotic zoo animal, then I spot Danny, one of the bellboys who occasionally did service for large parties like this. Mid-twenties, friendly. Always flirted with me in the break room, even though I never flirted back.
He’s near the bar, tray in hand, and when he sees me, his whole face lights up.
“Thea!” he says, coming closer. “Holy shit, I didn’t know you—”
He moves toward me, not getting any closer than twenty feet away, when two men in dark suits materialize out of nowhere and block his path. I didn’t even know they were there.
“Whoa, whoa,” Danny says, raising his free hand. “I just wanted to say hi.”
The taller one out of the two leans in and says something to him too quiet for me to hear.
Danny’s face goes white, then he backs up slowly. Seconds later, he’s vanished into the crowd.
I turn to Gabriel. “What the hell was that?”
“Security.”
I glance over my shoulder and see that the men are already gone, back to wherever they’d been hiding before moving in to block Danny.
“But he’s just a bellboy. He only wanted to—”
“He was approaching you without permission.”
“He knows me, Gabriel. We used to work together.”
“He knows who you were,” he corrects. There’s a sharp edge to his voice, as if we’d just come within moments of a life-or-death situation. “But he doesn’t know who you are now. And he doesn’t get to just stroll up to you like you’re chatting in the break room. Not anymore.”
I open my mouth to argue.
Then I see the look in his eyes—dark, possessive, immovable—and realize there’s no point.
“This is insane,” I mutter, shaking my head in disbelief.
“This is necessary.” He takes two champagne flutes from a passing waiter and hands one to me. “Take this. Drink. You look like you need it.”
I do need it. The champagne is cold and crisp, and easily one of the most delicious things I’ve ever tasted.
But it doesn’t help.
We’re making our way toward a cluster of guests near the windows when a woman intercepts us.
She’s in her fifties, trim, and dripping with diamonds. She’s also swaying slightly, and very, very drunk.
“Scusi,” she slurs in an exaggerated Italian accent, waving a jeweled hand at me. “You. Girl. I need more champagne. And tell the kitchen that the risotto was freddo. Cold. Do you understand?”
I blink.
“I’m not—”
Gabriel cuts in smoothly before I have a chance to finish.
“She’s with me.”
The woman blinks up at him, confused. “With you?”
“Yes.”
“But she—” The woman gestures toward me, her eyes bleary. “She looks like… I thought she was…”
“She’s with me,” Gabriel repeats. His tone is pleasant, but with enough steel underneath to make it clear that he’s not going to accept more prodding on the issue.
“Oh. Gabriel, I’m so sorry. Mi dispiace. I didn’t mean any offense.”
He smiles. “Enjoy your evening, Mrs. Caruso.” He dismisses her with a quick nod, and without waiting for a response, he steers me away.
“She thought I was staff,” I say tightly.
“She’s drunk and stupid—her usual manner at events like these.”
“She looked at me and saw a maid. Even in this dress. Even when standing next to you.”
He stops and turns to face me, his hands on my shoulders.
“Listen to me,” he says. “Half the people in this room are going to look at you and see whatever they want to see. And it’s because you’re new, because you don’t come from old money, because your face isn’t familiar to them. But mostly because they’re small-minded and cruel.”
I nod slowly. “Technically, I am a maid. I worked as a maid here, and now I work as a maid for you. They’re seeing what I really am, something I can’t shake off, no matter what I’m wearing.”
“They’re rich, bored snobs who have nothing better to do with their time than find ways to think themselves better than other people.
Not one of them matters—not to me. And by the end of the night, not to you either, because you’re going to walk through this room like you own it.
And anyone who doesn’t see you for what you really are—strong, beautiful, worth ten of them—can go fuck themselves. ”
I stare at him, not quite sure what to say.
“Better?” he asks, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
“A little. Maybe.”
“Good, now smile. We’re being watched.”
I glance around. Sure enough, at least a dozen people are looking at us with sideways glances.
“Who are they?”
“Enemies or allies—people trying to figure out which category they fall into.” He takes my hand, weaving his fingers between mine. “Don’t worry about them. Just stay close to me.”
“That’s your solution to everything, isn’t it? Staying close to you.”
“It’s worked so far.”
I want to argue, to tell him that I don’t need his help or constant protection or his anything else.
But then I think of those men who appeared out of nowhere. Good thing I hadn’t made a run for it—they’d have been on me within seconds.
I still don’t know what to make of this man, this man who says I’m in danger, that he’s the only one who can keep me safe.
As much as I don’t want to admit it, I’m starting to trust him.