Chapter 7 - Midnight at the Bellagio VaultAt 7:30 PM, a convoy of five black armored Maybachs departed the Sovereign Tower, gliding down Las Vegas Boulevard beneath the dazzling neon glow of the Strip.
Inside the master vehicle, Nina looked at her reflection in the dark window, barely recognizing the woman looking back at her.
She wore a breathtaking, custom-tailored emerald green silk gown that cascaded to the floor in graceful folds, accentuating her slender waist and the delicate curve of her collarbones. Her chestnut hair had been styled into an elegant French twist, secured with antique diamond pins that had belonged to Nikolai’s mother. Around her throat rested a simple, stunning choker of white gold set with a single, flawless teardrop emerald.
Beside her sat Nikolai, looking like an absolute sovereign in a bespoke black tuxedo with a midnight-blue silk bow tie.
His gray eyes swept over her with an expression of open, breathtaking reverence that made her cheeks flush with warmth.
“You take my breath away, Nina,” he murmured, his voice rich and deep.
“I feel like an imposter, Nikolai,” she admitted softly, smoothing the silk of her dress. “I’m a scrub nurse. I belong in rubber clogs and sterile gloves, not twenty-thousand-dollar couture.”
Nikolai took her gloved hand in his, lifting it to his lips to press a warm, tender kiss against her knuckles.
“A crown does not belong to the woman who buys it with dirty money, Nina,” he said firmly. “It belongs to the woman whose courage preserves the kingdom. Tonight, every man and woman in that ballroom will see the true mistress of this city.”
The convoy pulled up to the grand VIP portico of the Bellagio Resort.
Dozens of paparazzi, journalists, and society columnists lined the red carpet, their camera flashes illuminating the rainy night like strobe lights.
The door opened, and Nikolai stepped out into the flashes of light.
He paused, extending his hand into the vehicle to assist Nina down.
When Nina emerged, radiant and regal in her emerald gown, a collective hush fell over the assembled press.
The reporters shouted questions in a deafening wave:
“Mr. Volkov! Who is your companion?”
“Where is Miss Sterling?”
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“Is the merger of Volkov Gaming and the Sterling Commission still taking place tonight?”
Nikolai ignored the microphones entirely. He offered his arm to Nina, guiding her through the gilded double doors into the private Grand Ballroom where the elite of Nevada awaited.
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