Chapter 19
Dante writhed on the floor, cursing and spitting blood, begging for mercy he didn't deserve.
"My uncle's men will kill you!" Dante sobbed. "They'll burn your city down!"
"Your uncle is dead, by your own hand," Julian reminded him coldly. "And his men work for me now."
In the underworld, loyalty was often bought by the man left standing.
Julian looked down at the trembling, broken man who had tried to destroy his empire.
He didn't feel anger; he only felt disgust.
"You wanted to know what true power looks like, Dante," Julian said quietly.
"You thought it was screaming, breaking things, acting like a rabid animal in the streets."
Julian looked over at Elara, who stood effortlessly composed in the dim light, a lethal protector disguised in shadows.
"True power doesn't need to scream," Julian said, drawing his sidearm.
"It just finishes the job."
Julian aimed the pistol directly at Dante’s forehead and pulled the trigger without a flinch.
The echo of the gunshot rang through the boathouse, and then, silence returned.
It was finally over. The war was won, the Russo syndicate was absorbed, and the threat was extinguished completely.
Elias looked at the corpse, spat on the floor, and turned to walk out into the cold night.
May you like
Julian holstered his weapon and turned to face Elara.
She wiped a speck of dust from her tactical vest, looking exactly as unfazed as she did when organizing his calendar.
