Chapter 17: The Gala

Marcello's POV

The firm's tenth anniversary gala was held in the ballroom of the Plaza, and I was not invited.

A man in a headset stopped me at the doors.

"Mr. Ferraro. Ms. Lombardi has asked that you not be admitted."

"I founded the firm."

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry."

Naomi stepped up beside me in a dark green dress, with her hair pinned back and her badge in her hand.

"My resignation was never filed," she said. "I am still a senior litigator of Ferraro and Associates."

"My badge is valid. He's with me."

The man looked at the badge, then at the cameras behind us.

"Ma'am, the instruction was only for him."

"Then you'll have to explain to those cameras why you turned away a partner's wife."

He stepped aside.

I did not look at her. If I looked at her, I would stop walking.

The ballroom was full. Six hundred clients and lawyers stood under the chandeliers with champagne.

At the far end, on a stage, Chiara stood behind a lectern in cream silk, with the emerald on her hand catching the light.

"Ten years," she said into the microphone. "This firm is a family."

A ripple of applause.

"Marcello built it, and none of us would be here without him."

She let the room wait.

"He isn't with us tonight. He is going through a private and painful time."

She dropped her voice.

"Please keep him and his family in your thoughts."

His family. She said it with a tilt of her head and a sad little smile.

I started down the aisle.

People saw me. Heads turned in a slow wave. Conversations broke off.

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