The gun in his hand rises, and I realize I’m about to watch someone die.
2
DANTE
The door explodes inward under the force of my boot and I’m already taking in every detail in the room before the splinters hit the ground.
Antonio Marchetti is standing by the desk, a Glock in hand. A girl sits huddled on the floor, what looks like a nurse scrub is torn at the shoulder, dark hair wild around her face.
I turn to my target.
“Dante Moretti.” Antonio’s voice cuts through the room. “I should’ve known you’d come.”
I don’t waste time with words. My gun rises, steady, and aims at his center mass. Three of my men are behind me in the hallway, weapons trained on the door in case anyone else is stupid enough to try stopping us.
The mansion is ours now. We’ve been cutting through Antonio’s guards for the last twenty minutes, room by room, body by body.
I feel nothing about the men dying tonight. They chose this life the same as I did. We all do. Everyone in this world knowsexactly what they’re signing up for when they pick up a gun and swear loyalty to a family. Death comes with the territory.
What I came for is simple.
The ledger.
The legendary Marchetti insurance policy that’s kept all five families from tearing each other apart for a decade. Names, accounts, crimes documented in excruciating detail that could end empires and destroy legacies built over generations.
Antonio’s been sitting on it like a king on a throne, untouchable because fighting him means that ledger surfaces and everyone burns. Politicians, judges, cops, family heads, all of them would be exposed and ruined.
But not anymore. Tonight I’m either taking it or I’m making sure no one ever gets it.
Where would the bastard hide it? Not here. Too obvious. A man like Antonio doesn’t keep his most valuable asset in a place that can be raided.
I shrug off my jacket without taking my eyes off Antonio. It hits the floor behind me with a heavy thud. My movement is calculated. Showing I’m not leaving without getting what I want. Even if things get messy. Even if this room has to be painted red before the night is over.
Antonio’s hand twitches around his gun and I let my own finger rest on the trigger. One wrong move and he’s done. One twitch in the wrong direction and this conversation ends permanently.
“Where’s the ledger, Antonio?”
Antonio smiles and it’s all teeth. There’s blood on his mouth from where it looks like the girl got him and it makes him look like a hyena.
“You really think I’m going to tell you that?” He shifts his weight. “You think I’m stupid enough to give up my only protection?”
“I think you’re smart enough to know what happens if you don’t, seeing as you’re cornered…right now,” I say, my gun never wavering.
“I know exactly what happens.” His smile widens, blood staining his teeth. “You kill me, the ledger’s location dies with me. Every family in New York will tear this city apart looking for it. Blood in the streets. War for years. Innocents caught in the crossfire.”
He’s right. And he knows it.
That’s the problem with men like Antonio. They’re not stupid. They plan for scenarios like this. They build backups and dead man’s switches that trigger if they fall. They think three steps ahead and prepare for every outcome.
“Or,” Antonio continues, his voice smooth like he’s negotiating a business deal instead of staring down my gun, “you walk away. Let me keep my insurance. Everyone stays safe. No war. No bloodshed. Just business as usual and I’ll forgive this madness.”
Behind me, I hear Marco shift position in the hallway. Waiting for my signal. Waiting to see if this ends with a head rolling to the ground—a head that’s certainly not going to be mine.
“Last chance,” I say to Antonio. “Where is it?”
His expression hardens, the fake negotiation smile dropping completely.
“Go to hell!”
