Chapter 16 - The War
The confession changed the very fabric of their marriage. It was no longer a deal. It was a blood pact of absolute devotion.
But a mafia boss does not get shot without consequences.
The next morning, Dante sat at the command table in the bunker, a fresh shirt covering his bandages. Clara sat beside him, refusing to leave his side, while his capos gathered around.
“Victor thinks he can strike at the king and miss,” Dante said, his voice cold and calculating. “He endangered my wife. He endangered my family. Tear apart his ports. Burn his warehouses. I want Victor Russo brought to me alive by midnight.”
For the next twelve hours, Clara watched Dante wage war. He didn't hide it from her anymore. He let her see the ruthless strategist, the commander of an underworld army. And instead of fear, Clara felt a deep, fierce pride. He was destroying the men who had tried to hurt them.
By 11:00 p.m., Enzo walked into the room. “We have him, boss.”
Dante stood up, wincing slightly at his stitches. He looked at Clara. “Stay here.”
“No,” Clara said, standing up. “I’m your wife. I’m coming with you.”
Dante hesitated, then nodded. They walked into a soundproof interrogation room. Victor was tied to a chair, bruised and bleeding, screaming curses.
When Victor saw Clara standing beside Dante, he spat on the floor. “You’re dead, Cavallo! My men—”
“Your men are dead or working for me now,” Dante interrupted smoothly. He stepped forward, pulling a knife from his belt.
Clara didn't flinch. She watched as Dante pressed the blade to Victor’s throat.
“You tried to kill my wife,” Dante whispered. “You don't get a quick death, Victor. You get to vanish.”
Dante signaled his men. They dragged a screaming Victor out the back door. The city would never see him again.
May you like
Dante turned to Clara, expecting her to look away. But she stepped forward, took his hand, and wiped a drop of blood off his cheek with her thumb.
“Let’s go home to Leo,” she said.
