CHAPTER 3 — THE PRICE OF ONE CHOICE
Security shifted closer.
The ballroom held its breath.
Vivian tried to regain control again, forcing a smile.
“This girl attacked me—”
“No,” Grace said quietly.
Her voice was small—but clear.
“She was going to slap her.”
Silence dropped again.
Dominic finally turned fully toward Grace.
Not as a server.
Not as background noise.
As something else.
Something that had interrupted his world.
He took one step closer.
Then another.
The space between them collapsed.
“You touched my mother,” he said.
Not a question.
A fact.
Grace’s throat tightened.
“Yes.”
A pause.
Then—
“Why?”
That question was not what she expected.
Not rage.
Not threat.
Just… why.
Grace glanced at Margaret.
Then back at him.
“Because no one should be hit in a room full of people pretending not to see it.”
For the first time, Dominic’s expression changed.
Not soft.
Not kind.
But interested.
Like something buried under years of violence had just been disturbed.
Vivian suddenly tried to intervene.
“Dominic, I can explain—”
He raised one hand slightly.
She stopped speaking instantly.
That small gesture alone silenced a woman who had controlled rooms for decades.
Dominic looked back at Grace.
“You work here?”
“Yes.”
“How much do they pay you to disappear?”
The question hit harder than insult.
Grace didn’t answer.
Because the truth was too heavy to say out loud.
Behind them, Margaret watched quietly.
Then she spoke again.
“Enough.”
Dominic turned slightly toward her.
Margaret’s eyes stayed on Grace.
“I want her name remembered,” she said.
That sentence changed everything.
Dominic looked back at Grace.
Really looked.
Not as a mistake.
Not as staff.
As something recorded.
Something that would not be forgotten.
And in Chicago—
May you like
being remembered by Dominic DeLuca was never safe.
It was permanent.
