Chapter 10
The realization that a rival syndicate had infiltrated his bloodline hung heavily in the bright, cinematic light of the private study. Dante tossed the smartphone back onto the polished mahogany desk. The sharp clatter of the device echoed ominously.
"The Chicago outfit," Marcus repeated, his fair face paling slightly. "If they are moving against us, they won't stop with Javier. They will have other assets planted within the family. We are compromised, Boss."
"We are not compromised," Dante stated. His voice was incredibly deep, slightly raspy, and resonated with absolute, terrifying authority. "We are... informed. There is a profound difference."
He unbuttoned his suit jacket, the deeply masculine presence of his athletic frame dominating the room. He walked around the desk, his polished leather shoes making slow, deliberate sounds against the hardwood floor.
"They believed... they could use my cousin's jealousy... to manufacture a crisis," Dante murmured, looking out the reinforced windows at the darkening sky. The bright afternoon was giving way to the deep, rich colors of twilight. "They believed... that I would hesitate to purge my own blood."
He turned back to face his three senior capos. The elegant, dangerous tattoos on his neck flexed as he tilted his head, his cold, intimidating eyes locking onto his commanders.
"Javier is a liability we can no longer afford to tolerate," Dante declared, his tone stripping away any remaining trace of familial mercy. "His survival... sends the wrong message to Chicago."
"What are your orders, Mr. Romano?" Marcus asked, his hand resting instinctively on the concealed weapon beneath his suit jacket.
"I want you to mobilize the elite strike teams," Dante commanded softly. The slow, controlled pauses in his speech painted a horrific, vivid picture of the violence to come. "Locate Javier. He will likely attempt to flee the city and seek sanctuary with his new friends in the north. Do not let him cross the state line."
"And when we find him, Boss?" another capo asked, his eyes gleaming with dark anticipation.
"Execute him," Dante whispered, the single sentence condemning his cousin to death. "Make it public. Leave him where the Chicago scouts can find him. I want them to understand exactly what happens to rats in my city."
"Consider it done," the capos nodded in unison, recognizing that the era of peace had officially ended.
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"And Marcus," Dante added, his voice dropping into a register of pure, concentrated ice. "Arm every loyal soldier on the payroll. Lock down the shipping ports and secure the borders. If Chicago wants to test my strength... we are going to oblige them. We go to war tonight."
As his capos hurried out of the study to orchestrate the bloody purge, Dante stood alone in the quiet, brightly lit room. He looked at the family signet ring on his hand, a symbol of power paid for in blood. He had protected his children today, but to ensure they survived tomorrow, he was going to have to burn the city to the ground. The monster was fully awake, and the night was about to run red.
