DANTE
The Eastside docks were mine. I didn't bleed for them just to hand them over because the Montenegros decided to play games with a dead woman's memory.
I leaned back in my chair, fingers drumming against the polished wood of my office. The city glowed behind the tinted windows, a city that bent to my will. But tonight, it wasn't the Montenegros that had my attention—it was a RAT.
Ronan Morel.
A man I'd entrusted to handle a payment to the Russians. A debt that was meant to keep them satisfied, to prevent unnecessary bloodshed. I gave him my money and yet, the Russians claimed they never saw a cent.
And now? That spineless fuck had the audacity to step into my nightclub like he had no problem in the world.
He sat in the VIP section, laughing, drinking, touching a woman like he hadn't just signed his death warrant. A brunette with ruby lips, her body draped over his lap, giggling as he whispered in her ear. He'd grown comfortable, thinking he'd gotten away with it.
I was about to remind him how quickly I could change that.
I pushed off my chair, adjusting the cuffs of my black button-down before heading downstairs. The scent of whiskey, smoke, and sweat filled the air as I walked through INFERNO, my club.
Heads turned as I moved. Some in fear. Others in undisguised desire. Women watched me like they'd sell their souls for a second of my attention. But my focus was locked.
I approached Ronan's booth, and the moment he saw me, his smile froze.
Yeah, that's it.
"Dante," he greeted, straightening. His voice had a forced calmness, but his fingers twitched against his glass. "Didn't expect to see you tonight."
"No?" I slid into the seat across from him. "I own this place. Where else would I be?" I said, that play like smirk playing on my lips.
The brunette looked between us, sensing the sudden drop in temperature, but Ronan forced a grin and lifted his whiskey glass.
"Join me for a drink?"
The audacity. I didn't answer. Instead, I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees.
"You look comfortable." My voice was smooth, almost lazy. "Like a man with no problems in the world."
His throat bobbed. "Should I have problems?"
I tilted my head. "You tell me."
A muscle in his jaw ticked. He wasn't stupid, he knew why I was here.
The brunette made the mistake of speaking.
"You guys need a moment?" She tried to stand, but before she could, I grabbed her wrist—not roughly, just enough to make her freeze.
"Stay," I said, my eyes never leaving Ronan's. "Wouldn't want you to miss the fun."
She sank back down, her breathing uneven.
Ronan finally dropped the act. His face hardened, his grin slipping like a mask cracking.
"Look, Dante—"
I slammed my knife into the table, the tip embedding into the wood an inch from his hand.
The entire club didn't stop, but this booth did. The woman gasped, and Ronan jerked back, his face paling.
"Where's my money?" I asked, my tone quiet, deadly even.
He exhaled sharply. "I was gonna—"
I grabbed his hand and slammed it down onto the table, right beside the knife.
"You were gonna what?" My grip tightened. "Give it to me? Hand it over like a good little dog? Because I'm real fucking curious, Ronan—how did the Russians not get it?"
Sweat beaded on his forehead. "I—I ran into trouble—"
I twisted his wrist, drawing a sharp grunt from him.
"You ran into trouble?" I echoed. "And yet, here you are, drinking my liquor and touching my women?"
His mouth opened, but I was done with his bullshit excuses.
I nodded to Enzo, one of my men, who stood at the edge of the VIP section.
"Take him to the back."
Ronan panicked. "Wait—Dante, please! I can fix this!"
"Yeah?" I rose to my feet, adjusting my cuffs. "So can I."
Enzo grabbed him, dragging him out of the booth. The brunette scrambled away, eyes wide in terror. I glanced at her once before following them through the back doors of the club, where the music faded into distant bass.
Time to make an example. Pain Is a Teacher.
The backroom was cold. Concrete floors. A single metal chair in the center. Soundproof walls.
Ronan sat in the chair, wrists bound, breathing hard.
I rolled up my sleeves, stepping into the dim light.
"The way I see it, you have two options." I crouched in front of him. "One—you tell me where my fucking money is, and I might let you walk out of here."
He swallowed. "And—option two?"
I smiled. "I take something from you."
He shuddered. "Dante—"
I grabbed his pinky finger and snapped it backward.
He screamed.
"Wrong answer."
I broke another. And another. Until his screams turned hoarse.
He sobbed, eyes bloodshot. "The money's gone—"
I stilled. "Gone?"
He panted, his head lolling. "I spent some. The rest…" A weak, humorless laugh. "The Russians took it."
Silence. He was lying.
I didn't say anything for a moment. Just watched him. He knew he was a dead man walking, but he still had the audacity to play games with me.
I pulled out my gun and pressed it under his chin.
"Last chance," I murmured.
His entire body shook. "It was the Montenegros!" he gasped. "They….they set it up! I never meant to cross you, Dante, I swear—"
The Montenegros? The same fucks that sent me Alessia's jewelry.
The same family that wanted my Eastside docks.
My mind sharpened. Was this all connected? Had they orchestrated this to weaken my hold before making a move?
Ronan sobbed. "Please—"
I pulled the trigger.
The silencer coughed, and blood splattered across the floor. His body slumped.
I stood, fixing my sleeves. One problem solved.
But now, I had a bigger war coming, it was only matter of time before the Russians come for me.
I stepped out of the backroom, wiping a drop of blood from my wrist as I reentered the club.
And then—I saw her.
A woman across the room. Dark hair, elegant posture, familiar in a way that made my breath stop.
I moved before I could think, passing through the crowd, ignoring the calls of women trying to stop me.
She turned—and the room tilted.
Alessia? My pulse slammed against my ribs. My mind screamed impossible.
I reached for her—
And she vanished into the people by the club.
My heart thundered. What the fuck was happening?
Was I seeing ghosts? Or had the Montenegros played me for a fool?