CHAPTER THREE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY TWO – LONG LIVE CESARO

. The next evening, as the first guests began to arrive, Jasmine stood at the entrance of the bistro, a vision in a sleek black gown. She greeted each arrival with a warm smile and a firm handshake, the perfect hostess. Inside, the bistro hummed with activity. The city's elite mingled with made men, the clink of glasses and the murmur of conversation filling the air. Don Cesaro moved through the crowd, every inch the gracious patriarch, while Marco and Luca kept a watchful eye on the proceedings. As the night wore on, Jasmine began to relax slightly. Everything was going according to plan. The food was exquisite, the wine was flowing, and there had been no sign of trouble from Moretti's camp. But just as she was allowing herself to feel a glimmer of triumph, she noticed a commotion near the bar. Three men she didn't recognize were engaged in a heated argument with one of Don Cesaro's associates. Jasmine moved swiftly through the crowd, her eyes scanning for Marco or Luca. As she d