I know she’s safe, three rooms away, but I’m still restless because... what if being surrounded by girls she barely knows is overwhelming her?
It’s stupid to even think that. Leilani’s far from shy and Hailey, Bianca, Violet... hell, even Layla have her back.
That should be enough and rationally it is, but still... I’m itching. I keep losing the thread of conversation while my mind drifts to my girl.
Terrible timing for a mental fade because this meeting needs my focus. Carter’s keying Dante in about every detail, the cooperation with Blaze Noretto, the intel we gathered on Octavius Grey. He tells him about Anton and how he became our secondary target. He wants Dante to see the full picture.
I try to follow, forcing my jaw to unclench.
Dante listens, asks questions, then listens some more. A few grunts and fucks get tossed around, and then, finally, Carter explains why we’re in Chicago in the first place: support. Advice.
He needed more than anger and a plan. He wanted someone who could point out the missing pieces, the costs we’re not adding up, the dominoes that look innocent until they fall. He wanted Dante’s wisdom because Dante’s spent years watching good plans explode. He’s seen men who thought they were untouchable wake up either in handcuffs or never at all.
“Give me your thoughts,” Carter says, leaning back in his armchair, still on Dante’s right-hand side despite no longer being his right-hand man.
Dante taps his fingers against his armrest, deep in thought while we hold our breath. The tapping isn’t a nervous tic. It’s his way of sifting through information.
I don’t think Carter came here hoping for declarations of intent. He knows this is his war, not Dante’s. I think he’s simply counting on advice from his mentor and oldest friend.
Dante’s been in this business much longer than any of us. He’s at the top and he’s seen it all by now, so when he speaks, you shut up and fucking listen because he’s paid the price for mistakes you haven’t even made yet.
I shift in my chair, locking Leilani into the back of my mind so I can follow the conversation.
“It’s easy to start a war, Carter,” Dante drawls, swirling the liquid in his glass. “Ending one’s a different story. Think about the message you’d be sending. Think about the consequences. You want to be feared in this world, but you also want to be respected. Killing another boss,unprovoked, won’t get you either. They’ll see you as a liability. Untrustworthy.”
“Thisisn’tunprovoked,” Carter clips, his shoulder hiking up. “He put Hailey through hell. He’s Noretto’s shipping channel. He’s the reason for Leilani and Bianca’s suffering.”
Dante doesn’t answer right away, choosing his next words carefully. “I know you’ve had an eye on Grey ever since Hailey was taken. I know you planned to kill him all along, but you strategically bided your time. You have good reason to slit his throat... but no one else will see it that way. They’ll see a threat and theywilljoin forces to eliminate it.”
Ryder reaches for the bottle on the coffee table. He doesn’t speak, but I can tell he’s already running through the possible fallout scenarios.
“Octavius might seem like a low-ranking player, but trust me, he’s higher up this ladder than you think,” Dante continues. “While you’ve been taking over Ohio, cleaning ranks, and cutting ties with your father’s inconvenient contacts, Octavius has been sweeping them into his grasp. Kill him, and you’ll start a chain of events that’ll be difficult, if not impossible, to stop.”
He brings a glass of whiskey to his lips, taking a long, lazy sip. “Look at everything that’s happened. How many lives changed and ended because of Vaughn’s dumb choice. He accepted a bribe from Grey, and what followed ended your sister’s life. Your father’s life. Vaughn’s. Death and suffering all around. Hailey, Violet, Bianca...”
Carter nods absentmindedly, squeezing the bridge of his nose. “That’s one reason I want Octavius dead. Why I want Noretto’s business leveled to the fucking ground.”
“And I respect that, but you need to be smart. I’m not saying back out and let the fucker live. I’m saying start leaning into your DNA more. What did your father do best?”
“Scheme, lie, twist the truth to fit his agenda.”
“He was a strategist,” Dante summarizes, setting down his empty glass. “I don’t want a war. War means chaos, fear... andit always ends in casualties. We’ve upheld peace for years. This war wouldn’t end quickly. It wouldn’t be contained to you and Grey. It’d rebound onto me, then spread like a disease across the whole country.”
Carter gets up, pacing a short path in front of the fireplace. Ryder’s gaze drops to the floor, lips pressed thin, while Broadway studies Dante with a look that gives nothing away. My thoughts spin with ideas, possibilities and risks, always narrowing back to Leilani. What if a war breaks out and I die?
What will happen to her when I’m not around?
“If we make a move on Grey, his allies will come after us,” I pipe in, staring at the ice melting in my glass. “We’ll endanger not just ourselves, but the girls and, unfortunately, Dante and his allies. You’re too well connected.”
“With you so far,” Carter says, cracking his neck. “If you suggest hiring a hitman—”
“No, that’d get traced back to us,” Broadway says, rising from his spot. He rounds the couch, grasps the back with both hands and squeezes the leather. “Fuck, I never thought I’d say this, but I wish Vaughn was alive.”
Both Carter and Ryder bristle. “You better have a good fucking reason for spewing that bullshit.”
“Can’t you see? We only have two options that avoid all-out war: provoking Grey to move first, or...” He pauses, eyes searing into Carter’s, “...the enemy of my enemy.”
Dante’s lips tighten into a ghost of a smile. “He’s not wrong.”
