Chapter 5 - The Gala of Knives
By the second month, Natalie was no longer just a employee; she was the emotional anchor of the DeLuca household.
Ava had made incredible leaps. She was communicating her feelings using a specialized tablet app Natalie had customized, her sensory meltdowns had dropped by eighty percent, and she had even begun hugging her father every evening when he returned from work.
However, Damian’s public world required a massive annual presence: The Chicago Maritime Benevolent Gala—an elite black-tie event attended by politicians, shipping magnates, and rival underworld leaders.
"I need you there, Natalie," Damian said three days before the event, as they sat in the estate glass conservatory watching Ava paint in the garden.
"At a gala?" Natalie hesitated. "Mr. DeLuca, I don't belong in those circles."
"You belong wherever Ava needs to feel safe," Damian corrected her gently. "The event is noisy, crowded, and necessary for my political standing. I am bringing Ava for the first thirty minutes to accept a philanthropic award in her mother's name. I need you in the private VIP suite nearby so she can retreat the moment the sensory environment becomes too heavy."
"I don't have clothes for something like that," Natalie murmured.
The next morning, two personal stylists from Saks Fifth Avenue arrived at the estate carrying five racks of evening gowns.
Damian personally selected an exquisite emerald-green silk dress with long sleeves and a conservative, high neckline. It came with a delicate platinum necklace holding a single teardrop emerald.
"It matches your eyes," Damian said simply when she stepped out in the gown on the evening of the gala. He offered his arm, his dark eyes glowing with an admiration that made Natalie's cheeks flush warm.
The Drake Hotel ballroom was a glittering sea of diamonds, tuxedos, and orchestral music.
Natalie kept Ava close, guiding her through the crowd using a discreet squeeze of her hand to reassure her. When the applause erupted for Damian's opening speech, Natalie smoothly guided Ava out of the main hall and into the quiet, sound-proofed VIP suite on the mezzanine level.
Ava settled onto the velvet sofa, pulling her noise-canceling headphones over her ears and opening her coloring book.
"You did wonderfully, sweetheart," Natalie whispered, kissing the child's forehead.
Suddenly, the VIP suite door opened.
A man walked in. He was in his late fifties, wearing an expensive tailored suit, with thin grey hair and eyes as cold and predatory as a shark.
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Behind him stood two large men with their hands tucked inside their jackets.
"Well, well," the man said, his voice dripping with condescending charm. "So this is the famous little DeLuca girl... and her cheap nanny."
