Chapter 10
"No! Dante! You can't do this!" Marcus shrieked, thrashing desperately against Grant's grip, his polished leather shoes slipping wildly on the tile floor. "I am a senior associate! The family will demand answers!"
"The family will be told you fled the country," Dante replied, turning his back on the screaming man. "And they will believe me. Because I am the Boss."
Grant dragged the hysterical, bleeding Marcus out of the private medical room, hauling him down the long, bright corridor toward the subterranean levels of the equestrian club. Their voices echoed loudly before the heavy double doors slammed shut, cutting off the noise entirely.
Dante stood alone in the center of the ruined clinic. The scattered helmet boxes, the crushed orthotic molds, and the fallen saddle pads were the physical wreckage of the morning's betrayal. But the true damage was hidden in the inner pocket of his tailored suit jacket.
"Uncle Dante?" Leo asked quietly, breaking the silence.
Dante turned his head, looking at his fifteen-year-old nephew. Leo was standing near the examination bench, watching him with a mixture of awe and profound respect.
"You fought well today, Leo," Dante murmured, a genuine note of pride bleeding into his dark, raspy voice. "You protected her when I was not here. I will not forget that."
"I would die before I let them hurt her," Leo stated, his rosy face serious and resolute.
"I know you would," Dante nodded slowly. He reached out and squeezed the teenager's shoulder, his heavily tattooed hand a symbol of the heavy, violent burden he carried. "But you will not have to. Go back to the main lodge. Tell the capos that the security issue has been resolved."
"Yes, Uncle Dante," Leo nodded, quickly exiting the clinic, leaving Dante entirely alone.
The bright, natural sunlight pouring through the skylights felt suddenly cold and isolating. Dante walked over to the stainless steel medical tray. He looked down at the severed pieces of the thick black rubber riding boot, the innocent piece of children's clothing that had been weaponized against his family.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the heavy gold signet ring belonging to the dead Chicago Don. He held it up to the cinematic light, the diamonds catching the sun and throwing fractured, brilliant colors across the white walls.
Marcus’s actions had ignited a fuse that would inevitably lead to a massive, apocalyptic war between the two most powerful syndicates in the country. The Chicago outfit would not rest until they found out what happened to their Don. The ledgers on the USB drive were enough to blackmail half the politicians on the East Coast, but they were also a death sentence for anyone caught holding them.
May you like
Dante closed his tattooed fist tightly around the ring. The charming, romantic look of his wavy hair now framed the face of an absolute warlord standing on the precipice of total war. He had protected his daughter, but the true battle to protect his empire had only just begun.
He slipped the ring back into his pocket, his jaw clenching as he turned toward the door. He was going down to the stables. He was going to extract every single detail of the murder from Marcus, and then he was going to burn Chicago to the ground.
