"Boss… is she really your woman?"
Jessica asked as she stepped out of the now nearly empty ballroom as almost all the mafia's already left.
"She's supposed to be your bedroom attendant," she continued, her tone tightening with restrained anger. "So how exactly did she become your woman tonight?"
Damien exhaled slowly, unfazed.
"Yes, she is my bedroom attendant," he replied calmly, pulling out a cigarette. He lit it, the flame briefly illuminating his cold, unreadable expression. Taking a slow drag, he added, "But tonight was my first ball as the head. I needed a woman by my side… someone to complete the image."
He released a thin stream of smoke into the air, his lips curling into the faintest smirk.
"And I'd say it was quite successful," he went on. "I reminded them all of who I am. Of what I'm capable of." His eyes darkened slightly. "They needed to see that I'm not a man to be underestimated."
