CHAPTER 2 — THE MAN IN THE SHADOWS
It happened in less than three seconds.
Vivian Whitmore's jeweled hand shot toward the elderly woman.
"How dare you block my way!" she snapped.
Grace didn't think.
She simply moved.
Her fingers caught Vivian's wrist inches before the slap landed.
The tray of champagne slipped from her other hand.
CRASH!
Crystal exploded across the marble floor.
The string quartet stopped playing.
More than four hundred guests turned at once.
Vivian stared at Grace in disbelief.
"You filthy waitress!" she hissed. "Do you have any idea who I am?"
Grace's heart pounded.
"No," she answered quietly.
"But I know you don't hit someone who can't defend herself."
Gasps rippled through the ballroom.
Margaret DeLuca looked up at the young waitress, her eyes filling with quiet surprise.
No one had stood up for her since the accident.
Not like this.
Across the room...
A tall man stepped out from behind a marble column.
Perfectly tailored black suit.
Calm gray eyes.
Not a single wasted movement.
Dominic DeLuca.
The room immediately grew quieter.
Several politicians instinctively straightened their jackets.
A judge quietly lowered his champagne glass.
Even Vivian's face lost its color.
Dominic walked slowly across the ballroom.
Every footstep echoed.
He stopped beside his mother's wheelchair.
Without looking away from Grace, he asked softly,
"Mother..."
"Did anyone hurt you?"
Margaret smiled gently.
"No."
She reached for Grace's trembling hand.
"This young lady made sure of that."
For the first time that evening...
The most feared man in Chicago looked directly at Grace.
May you like
Instead of anger...
There was gratitude.
