The Banquet.

Chapter 20.

Jasmine descended the stairs, now lined with deep red carpet, each step echoing softly as her shoes clicked against the floor—a quiet announcement of her arrival.

Like a queen, she stood tall at 5’9, clad in a black, waist-snatching gala gown. She was everything perfection promised.

Her skin shimmered under the cold glow of the crystal chandelier, catching light with every subtle movement.

She paused at the last stair, reaching out to take a drink from a nearby waitress.

Her eyes swept across the hall—a place heavy with power and greed. The room buzzed quietly, alive in the way only the Mafia could command: soft but dangerous, elegant but ruthless.

Men stood like statues in tailored suits, exchanging false smiles and firm handshakes. Their faces wore masks—smiles that barely hid the thirst for control, the hunger for power, the endless greed.

Beside them, women stood out—some as concubines, others clearly submissive. Jasmine could read the scene without effort.

The thick, almost choking air carried the scent of dominance, control, and danger—power looming like a shadow over every corner of the room.

“Impressive.” She mumbled raising the glass of wine to her lips, taking a gentle sip.

Suddenly, she felt a sharp weight press against her skin—the invisible glare of someone’s gaze.

A small, knowing smile curled at the corner of her lips.

She knew beauty when she saw it. Tonight, she was that beauty—a lady draped in timeless black, glowing quietly but unmistakably in this dark world.

Jasmine felt the electric pull between herself and this place—the connection, the desire to become one with this ruthless family.

Perhaps it was the thirst for revenge for her own bloodline. Perhaps that hunger was why this dark world felt like home.

Her finger tapped lightly against the side of her glass. For once, she was grateful to Jerald—for giving her this outfit, this armor. Something that made her feel powerful, untouchable, and envied.

The door to the stage opened, and Jerald stepped out.

The moment he entered, the air seemed to shift—like something heavy just broke.

His presence spread through the room like dark ink on paper, slowly taking over every corner.

Conversations stopped. Glasses paused mid-air. People’s eyes turned to him, silent but full of respect—and maybe a little fear.

The energy in the room grew thick and quiet, like everyone was holding their breath.

Men in sharp suits straightened up, their confidence fading under his steady gaze. Women glanced his way, drawn by the power he carried without even trying.

Jerald walked forward slowly, each step sure and calm—he owned this place.

At that moment, the whole room belonged to him, wrapped tight in his control and the weight of his power.

Jasmine’s breath hitched at the sight of him.

He stood tall and more powerful than anyone draped in a black cosmic night suit could ever.

Her eyes moved around his body from afar. Gosh! She should not be thinking about this. She should be angry at him for whatever reasons she knew nothing of, but the case was different. Her eyes moved around his body drinking every inch of him. Desiring every inch of those fingers that moved slowly against her clit the night before.

He looked. Powerful. Dangerous. And well put together for a man grieving or celebrating the anniversary of his missing first love. From the very moment the news got to her, she knew that this man whom she had spent five days of her life with didn't have a heart for things as flimsy as that. Clearly. It was a rummor.

“Attention,” Jerald said, his cold voice breathing through her thoughts and steady, slicing through the chatter.

The room went quiet, all eyes locked on him.

Jasmine cleared her throat softly, lifting the glass to her lips.

His lips curled slowly into confidence, and then he spoke with calm pride.

“Tonight marks more than a date.” His Mind wandered off to that evening when he met her. The one he’d been waiting for. The one he used this milestone anniversary to secretly celebrate every year.

He let in a soft swallow and then continued. “It marks years of power. Years of crushing anyone who stood in my way.”

He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in, and Jasmine took that time to reflect. Her lips twitched for some reason she knew nothing of.

Her father had been a mafia lord before he got massacred by a greedy friend. All of this was a life that her younger self was used to. And for some reason, she still desired it.

Her finger tapped gently on the glass cup, lips twitching into a smile. She loved them confident and that was just what Jerald was doing.

“This empire? It’s mine.” Jerald said, voice rising above the usual. “I built it from fire and iron and not a soul—can take it from me.”

With a smug grin, Jerald lifted his glass high, voice sharp and sure.

“To power. To fear. To endless multi-billion deals. And to the empire, no one can ever touch.”

A quiet silence filled the air and they raised their glasses silently, respect mixed with envy hanging heavy in the air.

Jasmine's grin widened softly, she lifted the glass to her lips. Taking a longer sip from it.

Jerald was down the stage now and this time, his eyes were on her.

He stood beside business partners but their words meant nothing to him.

The only thing that played in his head was her voice. Soft moans that echoed through the hallway last night.

His fingers tightened against his glass, throat burning to have a taste of her.

She was chatting with hell knows who and the sight of that had his guts boiling.

He lifted the glass to his lips, taking a gentle sip to quench the thirst of her, but the wine washed down his throat, leaving nothing but the persistent hunger to have her.

His muscles tightened, Jaws ticking.

She looked fucking perfect in that dress.

And he never thought for once that he would be this envious of a dress he purchased with his own money, but that damn dress snatched her waist tightly, drawing attention to the soft slope of her figure, folding down in a straight graceful fall that kissed the floor at every step she took.

Her hips stood out in boldness, as the outfit clung to her body, hugging every curve.

Jerald’s throat bubbled, heat burning him up from within.

Hell! He needed her. He needed to have that hips beneath him, thrusting back and forth with every stroke he rendered.

He moved the glass to his lips again, this time with an urgency to kill every heat that was building up against his throat. But nothing... Could quench his thirst and hunger for her.

Not when that high long slit ran along her right leg, teasing him with a view he could barely tear his gaze from.

“Mr Luca.” One of the business partners called pulling him out of his trance.

Jerald's lashes fluttered, and he turned in their direction, jolting slightly.

“You were lost.”

Lost? Yes! He was lost! With Jasmine looking like Sin wrapped in Silk, he was bound to be lost. But he dared not admit it.

“Go on.” He said, voice thick with dominance.

The men nodded, and the conversation started again, but it didn't even take a damn time to flatter.

His eyes were back on her and this time they were on her ass.

She was going to hell knew where and with every step she took, his cock jerked, stretching and stretching until it formed a bulge not so far from visible.

Jerald’s jaws tightened and he gritted.

“Excuse me.” He said voice strained.

He didn't even wait for a reply before storming out.

Jasmine walked through the hallway, her heels clicking against the hall.

Her lips twitched into a subconscious smile, her body tingling from every glare he gave.

She had seen him. The way every inch of his eyes unraveled her, burning with thirst and hunger. Her pussy clenched, dripping from the intensity of his glare.

Her nipples had turned perky, tightening at every move of his eyes.

The smile on her lips grew wider until she heard the sound of a voice.

“Crushing on your master?”

Jasmine’s step flattered at the sound.

She raised her gaze in the direction of the voice and her eyes dropped over a lady in yellow. Instantly, the smile on her face dropped, vanishing immediately.

The tension in the air thickened as they both held each other's gaze.

Jasmine glared at her, not needing anyone to tell her. From the appearance of the lady, she could tell.

This lady in yellow was definitely the bitch that sent her the message from yesterday.