Chapter 16 - The Wrath of DanteMarcus laughed, a harsh, grating sound that echoed through the empty warehouse.
He pulled out a burner phone and dialed Dante’s personal encrypted number.
He put the phone on speaker and set it on a metal barrel in front of Clara.
“Marcus,” Dante’s voice came through the speaker, low and vibrating with absolute, murderous rage.
“I have your lovely bride-to-be, boss,” Marcus taunted, dragging the knife lightly across Clara’s collarbone.
Clara hissed in pain as a thin line of blood welled up on her skin.
Dante heard the sound, and the silence that followed was apocalyptic.
“If she sheds a single tear, I will make your death last for three weeks,” Dante promised.
“Bring the title deeds to the ports and control of the syndicate to Pier 44, or she dies today.”
Marcus ended the call, looking incredibly pleased with himself.
“He is a fool for love,” Marcus mocked, turning his back on the warehouse doors.
That was the last mistake he ever made.
The massive steel doors of the warehouse didn't just open; they exploded inward.
Two armored SUVs smashed through the debris, guns blazing before the vehicles even stopped.
Dante hadn't gone to the decoy location; he had tracked the nanny’s burner phone instead.
Marcus’s men were cut down in a hail of merciless, tactical gunfire.
Dante stepped out of the smoke like an avenging angel of death.
He didn't use a gun on Marcus.
He walked straight through the crossfire, grabbed the traitor by the throat, and drove a hunting knife directly into his chest.
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Marcus choked on his own blood and collapsed dead on the concrete floor.
Dante dropped the bloody knife and rushed to Clara.
