Chapter 4
The bright video colors of the Chicago estate felt surreal against the dark, heavy silence that had descended upon the crowd. The fair, rosy skin of the assembled guests had turned a uniform, sickly pale. They watched with bated breath, knowing that striking the bloodline of the Boss was a transgression that could only be paid for in blood.
Dante remained perfectly still, his broad shoulders forming an impenetrable barrier between his children and the man who had assaulted them. His dark, intimidating eyes were locked onto his cousin, calculating the precise amount of force required to end the threat without traumatizing his children further.
Javier, however, was too intoxicated by alcohol and his own deeply rooted inferiority complex to recognize the precipice upon which he stood. The public humiliation of being tossed aside like a ragdoll in front of the entire syndicate shattered whatever remaining sense of self-preservation he possessed.
"You think you're a god, don't you?" Javier sneered, his face flushing a dark, angry purple. He took a heavy, aggressive step toward Dante, his casual shoes tearing up the manicured grass.
"Javier, stop!" Clara shrieked from the crowd, tears of genuine panic streaming down her face. "Please, apologize to him!"
"I won't apologize for putting a spoiled brat in his place!" Javier roared back, turning his furious gaze onto his wife before snapping it back to Dante.
Javier closed the distance, stepping squarely into Dante’s personal space. With a sudden, violent burst of aggression, Javier raised both of his hands and forcefully shoved Dante squarely in the chest.
The collective gasp from the wealthy American guests sucked the air out of the courtyard. The bodyguards along the perimeter instantly reached for the concealed weapons beneath their professional suits, waiting only for a subtle nod from their leader to execute the man standing on the lawn.
Dante absorbed the heavy shove without moving a single inch. His tailored three-piece suit pulled taut across his muscular chest. He did not stumble. He did not blink. The elegant, dangerous tattoos on his neck seemed to pulse with the slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
"What are you going to do about it, Boss?" Javier mocked, his voice dripping with venomous sarcasm, pushing his face aggressively close to Dante's. "You going to have your goons shoot me in front of your kids? You going to show everyone how weak you are without your army?"
"I do not... need an army," Dante murmured. His voice was a dead, emotionless void. Every syllable sounded measured, cold, and dripping with an apocalyptic danger. "To deal... with a coward."
"I'm not a coward!" Javier spat, spit flying from his lips. "I'm twice the man you'll ever be!"
May you like
Dante slowly tilted his head, his cold, sharp eyes stripping away every layer of Javier's false bravado. "Then prove it."
The challenge hung in the bright, sunlit air. Javier’s chest heaved. Blinded by rage and the perceived challenge to his masculinity, Javier pulled his right arm back, balling his hand into a heavy, reckless fist. He threw his entire body weight into a massive, looping punch aimed directly at Dante’s jaw, fully intending to knock the Mafia Boss to the ground in front of the entire family.
