Chapter 3 Performance Art

The ballroom of the St. Regis was filled with a sea of sequins and sharks. No sooner had Aria and Luca entered the room than it fell silent, before the whispers started again.

"The Romeo and Juliet of the tech world," a journalist yelled out, pushing a microphone towards them. "Mr. Veridian, is this a merger or a marriage?"

Luca pulled Aria closer to him, with his hand splayed out across the back of her. "It's a revolution," Luca announced, with authority dripping from every word. "The legacy of Hale and Veridian is no longer about the past. It's about the future."

"And you, Miss Hale?" the journalist asked. "What does it feel like to marry the man who attempted to hostilely take over your company three months ago?"

Aria laughed, a sound of shattering glass. "In business, as in love, the greatest rivalries always beget the greatest passions. Don't you agree, Luca?"

She turned to him, her head tilted back. She caught the flicker of surprise in his gaze at her words.

"Passionate is one way to put it," Luca whispered, his gaze fixed on her lips.

For the next two hours, they danced. It was a choreographed battle. Each time he turned her, she felt the power in his muscles; each time they leaned in to whisper a "sweet nothing" for the benefit of the cameras, she spat a new insult.

"You're squeezing me too hard," she whispered, smiling.

"You're shaking," he said, his voice low. "Are you afraid, Aria? Or is the weight of your father's secret offshore investments finally getting to you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

The Seychelles, Aria. The 'Blue Water' fund. We found the trail."

Aria tripped. Luca caught her, holding her against his chest. To the outside world, they were sharing a sweet, romantic moment. But to Aria, they were in the middle of an interrogation.

"My family has no funds in the Seychelles," she spat. "If there's laundering going on, look to your own backyard. Your father was the one obsessed with offshore accounts and tax havens."

"My father is dead," he snarled, his arms holding her fast.

"And mine is a broken man because of him!"

The music stopped. Luca leaned in, his forehead pressing against hers. "I'm going to get to the truth, Aria. And when I do, I won't care how lovely you look in that green. I'll see you in handcuffs."

"You'll have to catch me," she whispered.

Aria broke free and made a beeline for the powder room. She needed a minute to get her thoughts in order. To think.

As she emerged into the mirrored hallway, she took out the burner phone that had been in the car. She'd taken it when they'd stopped at the light. She'd seen the messages. They'd been unlocked.

There were coordinates. There were timestamps. And a photo.

A photo of her. Not a photo for public consumption. A grainy photo, taken with a telephoto lens, of her in her private office three nights ago, weeping in front of a photo of her mother.

Luca had not just been spying on the company. He had been spying on her. In her most vulnerable moments.

A cold anger had taken hold of her. She had not been the target of a merger. She had been the target of a sting operation.

She stepped back into the gala, her eyes scanning the room for him. She found him in a corner, speaking to a man she recognized. A high-ranking official in the SEC.

Luca saw her. He nodded to the official and made his way towards her.

Before he could reach her, the lights in the ballroom flickered and went out.

A scream came from the center of the room. A crash of glass.

Aria felt a hand grasp her arm firmly.

"Don't move," a voice whispered. It wasn't Luca.

A needle punctured her neck. The room started to spin.

"Aria!" she heard Luca bellow in the distance.

The last thing she saw was the bright red light of a laser sight focused on Luca's chest.