Chapter 2
Two hours ago….
“Ahhh!!”
A piercing scream echoed through the empty abandoned building, followed by weak, desperate sobs. The sound bounced off the cracked cement walls, mixing with the steady drip of blood hitting the cold floor.
A man hung upside down from a thick chain fixed to the ceiling. His body swayed slightly, his face beaten so badly it was hard to recognise him. Blood dripped steadily from his wounds, splattering onto the cold floor below in a slow, haunting rhythm. His shallow breaths came in ragged gasps, each one sounding weaker than the last.
“Bastardo, you dare come after my family?” Dante Romano’s voice was a thunderous growl, the words laced with venom.
The room seemed to tremble under his presence. Dante Romano was the most ruthless Alpha, a man forged from shadows and steel, his name spoken with a mix of fear and respect in the darkest corners of the mafia world. He was power incarnate, the kind of man who commanded silence just by entering a room.
A golden cigar dangled between his fingers, the smoke curling up like an omen. His left hand traced the handle of his family heirloom knife, a blade that had tasted the blood of thousands.
“Do you know,” he began, his voice low, but sharp as a blade, “what happens to men who betray me?”
As soon as the word left Dante romano’s mouth, the door creaked open. Two figures were thrust into the room—a woman and a child, their eyes blindfolded with black cloth, their hands bound tightly together.
The beaten man’s heart pounded as the familiar shapes of his family filled his vision. Fear flooded his eyes..
“No… please, no…” he whimpered, his voice breaking. The sight of his loved ones in the hands of this unforgiving mafia boss shattered him.
The mafia boss stood up and stepped closer toward the trembling figure, his polished shoes stopping just inches from the growing pool of blood. He tilted his head, studying the broken man as if he were a puzzle missing a piece.
“You see,” Dante’s voice was calm, almost casual, but his words cut through the tension like a sharpened blade. “I don’t need to shout to make my point. Fear,” he paused, his lips curling into a small, sinister smirk, “is quieter. It settles deep. It doesn’t let you breathe.”
He leaned in, his breath hot against the man’s car as he whispered, “And tonight, you’ll wish you had begged for mercy.
Without taking his eyes off the broken man, Dante gave a single, sharp nod to his men. One of them stepped forward and poured gasoline over the woman and child. Their screams filled the roon
- om.
“No, Signore Romano! Please, forgive me!.” The man cried,” Kill me please Leave my family boss!“.
Dante stood up fixing his black suit. The gleam of his cufflinks caught the dim light as he adjusted his sleeves with practiced calm. His face was unreadable a sharp jawline, piercing eyes, and a gaze so cold it could freeze fire.
From his pocket, mafia boss pulled out a sleek silver lighter, its polished surface gleaming in the dim light. He flicked it open, the small flame flicker. His dark eyes reflected the tiny flame, cold and unblinking, a mirror to the terror in the room.
The tied–up man’s heart raced, his breath coming in shallow gasps. He shook his head frantically, pleading with his eyes as Dante’s gaze never wavered.
Without a word, Dante tossed the lighter into the air. Time seemed to freeze for a moment, the lighter spinning slowly, almost tauntingly, as the man’s panic reached its peak.
Then, in a single, swift motion, Dante kicked the lighter toward the woman and child. It skidded across the floor, landing in the small puddle of gasoline that covered them both. The flame caught instantly, and the room erupted in the deafening sound of fire igniting.
The man screamed, his voice raw with desperation, his cries echoing through the room as he struggled against the chains that bound him. His body jerked violently, every muscle straining to free himself, to save his family. But it was of no use. The chains held him captive, and his strength was nothing against the restraints.
Helpless, he could only watch in agonizing as the flames crept closer to his wife and child. His heart shattered with every crackle of fire, every desperate scream from his family. The horror in their eyes was a reflection of his own, and he could do nothing to stop it. The world seemed to close in around him.
The mafia boss flipped his ancestors‘ knife, the blade catching the light for a brief moment before it sliced through the air with deadly precision The man’s body went stiff in an instant, a final, panicked gasp escaping his lips as Dante’s blade met his throat. Blood erupted in a violent spray. splattering across the cold cement floor and staining Dante’s designer black suit, the crimson droplets a stark contrast against the fabric’s sleek
darkness.
The man’s body slumped, lifeless.
173
Chapter 9
Pulne questa dixante clean the mese Dante whispered, his voice low and calm as he placed a cigarette between his lips.
Track your long enough Luca, his second in command and best friend askest with a smirk, lighting the cigarette for his boss. The mafia boss took a long inhale of smoke.
take care of that woman and child,” he said, his voice as cold
ommanding”
Tica rolled his eyes, unfazed by the chilling command. Ignoring what the malia boss had said, he pulled out his phone,
Only Luca had the audacity to ignore his box and get away without getting shot to death.
You had all the fun white i stuck doing paperwork, Luca complained dramatically, tossing a towel toward Dente.
Dante smirked as he caught the towel effortlessly “Jealous, Luca? Don’t worry, next time I’ll save you a little bloodshed, if you weren’t so slow.”
Talk to you dail, he has been trying your phone since an hour. Its urgent” Dante hummed before he wiped his face clean, the crimson streaks soaking into the towel as he casually tossed it back, hitting his second–in–command face.
Luca’s loud cursex echoes through the empty, crumbsling walls as Dante strode out of the abandoned building without so much as a glance back. He removes his blood–covered, sleek black coat and tossed it (worth a common man’s ten years‘ salary) into a pile of garbage before sliding into the backseat of his sleek black can
Dante adjusted his tie as the driver straightened at his arrival.
“Eliot Chubs,” He commanded coolly, his voice stern. Before leaning back comfortably into his seat.
“Yes Maestro” (Yex master)
He pulled out his phone, his jaw tightening as he scrolled to a familiar number. The line barely rang before the teasing voice of his father was heard
So, you finally remembered this old
exists?”
“Hmm, what’s up?” Dante asked with a broad expression.
“Do you remember the Russian family? The one we arranged your wedding with a few years ago?” his father replied.
Dante’s brow furrowed, his eyes narrowing as he straightened. “Yeah. And I told you I will kill her on our wedding night.”
His father’s voice shifted, the edge of amusement creeping in. “Well, surprise. Your bride’s on the run.”
Dante smirked, his lips curling into a dark expression. “Run? Good for her. She’s saved”
There was a brief silence on the other end of the line. “She’s been on the run for three years now. Macro Drago has searched for her everywhere, but she’s nowhere to be found. I’ve sent you her picture. He wants our help, and you will make sure to find her. That’s an order.”
The line went dead with a sharp click.
Present
Mark, the mafia boss’s personal driver, had one hand on his gun while his other hand tightened the steering wheel. He glanced at the rearview mirror, his eyes wide, not with fear, but with incredulous shock. This crazy woman had just dared to press a knife to his master’s throat.
He stole a glance at his employer, who was known for his icy demeanour and unmatched control. To his astonishment, the boss didn’t seem angry No, he was sitting there, calm and unbothered like a king, his dark eyes fixed on the woman beside him.
The woman, oblivious to his master’s reaction, pressed the blade harder against the mafia boss’s neck, her voice laced with a dangerous edge.” Shut up
“Do as I say!” she shouted, her hand trembling a luule. His cold, icy eyes met her before slowly glancing down at her appearance. Elara felt shiver feeling as it the man undressig her nacked with his eyes.
Mark’s shock deepened. Who was this woman, and did she have any idea who she was threatening? He could feel the icy aura of his master.
“Puc the knife down, tesoro“, Dante said, his tone deceptively soft. “You’re bleeding on my seats.”
Her eyes narrowed, catching the dark stain spreading from her leg. “I’ll bleed wherever I damn well please,” she shot back, defiance masking her panic
He chuckled, a low, dangerous sound. “Do you know who I am?”
