Dante
I was seriously disgusted.
Sofia had the audacity to stand in front of me, eyes brimming with fake tears, as if the past two years meant nothing. As if I had simply forgotten what she did.
And now, she had the nerve to ask me to marry her again?
I ignored her, focusing on my breakfast instead. The silver fork in my hand felt like a weapon I wished I could use to carve some sense into her empty skull. My patience was already thin, and I didn't have the time or energy for this nonsense.
But then she spoke again.
"Dante, please—"
I dropped my fork.
A sharp clang echoed through the dining hall as I stood up. The sudden movement must have startled her because she rushed toward me, wrapping her arms around me from behind.
Big mistake.
If I wasn't a well-groomed, disciplined man, I would've slammed her into the nearest wall.
Who the fuck did she think she was playing with?
I took a slow breath, my jaw clenched. The last time she touched me, it had ended in betrayal.
"Sofia," I said, my voice low. "Let. Go. Of. Me."
"I'm sorry," she whispered desperately. "I know you're still mad at me—"
That only fueled my anger more.
I grabbed her hands and pried them off me with ease. She stumbled back slightly, but I didn't look at her. I didn't need to. She wasn't worth the attention.
Without another word, I walked into the bedroom, slamming the door shut.
By the time I finished my shower and stepped out, she was gone.
Good.
I exhaled, rubbing a towel over my face before tossing it aside. I had bigger things to worry about.
Carlos had sent in a list of possible rats—people who might have leaked my location.
Was everyone suddenly forgetting who the hell Dante Moretti was?
Maybe it was time to remind them.
Stepping outside, Nico was already waiting, his sharp eyes scanning my every move. He didn't have to say a word, he knew my mood was foul.
Draco, my new Rottweiler, sat obediently by my side, his dark eyes watchful.
I grabbed my tablet and motioned for Nico to start talking.
"Your schedule for today," he began, his voice smooth. "The private jet is prepped for New York. As soon as we land, we're heading straight to your office. Carlos is still working on tracking down the rats. Also—" he hesitated. "There's been an attack on one of our businesses."
I stopped scrolling.
"What?"
"One of your warehouses in Brooklyn was raided last night," Nico said. "Explosives were used. It's completely gone."
My jaw ticked.
"And?"
"The bodies we found, some of our men were among them."
The air shifted, I didn't even know how to feel at this point. First was my weapon site now this….
Silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating.
I gripped my tablet tightly before setting it down with a controlled exhale.
Someone was really pushing their luck.
"Who did it?" I asked, voice eerily calm.
"We don't have an exact name yet," Nico admitted. "But there's a signature."
I turned to him, waiting.
"A red ace card," he said. "Left at the scene."
I went still. Only one person was stupid enough to pull something like this.
Riccardo Romano. That motherfucker.
I let out a low chuckle, but there was no humor in it.
"So, he thinks he can challenge me?" I muttered. "Destroying my property? Killing my men? And leaving his calling card like a goddamn invitation?"
Nico didn't answer. He didn't need to.
I ran a hand through my hair and sighed.
"Get the jet ready. Now."
We left immediately.
....
By the time we touched down in New York, my patience was gone. As soon as we got into the car, I pulled up a live security feed of my businesses. My jaw tightened as I swiped through the footage, checking for any more surprises.
Then I saw it.
My website—my underground trading site was down. A red warning message flashed across the screen.
I clenched my teeth, my anger boiling over.
"FUCK!" I slammed my fist against the dashboard.
Nico barely flinched, but I knew he felt the shift in my mood.
Taking down my website was an act of war. That wasn't just business; that was personal.
We drove straight to my private office.
The second I stepped inside, I shrugged off my coat and threw it onto the desk. My chair creaked as I leaned back, fingers tapping against the polished wood.
Someone was crossing me, and I was about to make them regret it.
A knock sounded at the door.
"Enter," I said sharply.
The door swung open, and two of my men dragged in a beaten, bloodied man. His face was swollen, his lip split open, and his wrists were bound.
"Caught him outside the Brooklyn warehouse last night," Nico said. "Trying to run."
I tilted my head.
The man groaned, barely conscious, but his eyes widened when he saw me.
"Mr. Moretti," he gasped. "Please—"
I stood up, walking toward him slowly.
"You were at my warehouse?" I asked.
He swallowed thickly. "I….I was just—"
I crouched down so we were at eye level.
"Lying to me," I finished for him.
He started shaking.
"I….. I swear, I wasn't working for Romano! I was just—"
I sighed.
Then, without warning, I grabbed his collar and yanked him forward, slamming his face against the hard table. Blood splattered instantly.
He screamed.
I let him go, watching as he crumpled onto the floor, groaning in agony.
"Please," he sobbed. "I'll tell you whatever you want!"
I smiled coldly. "Now we're talking."
I leaned down.
"Tell me exactly what Romano is planning."
He trembled, nodding frantically. "H—he's planning to take the docks! He knows your shipment is arriving next week! He's going to intercept it!"
I stilled. That shipment was worth millions.
And now Romano was planning to steal from me? Could he even handle socks worth that amount if given to me? A fool at forty.
I exhaled slowly, I had a lot going on, I was just making an example and obviously will send his body as a souvenir warning to Riccardo.
Then, without a word, I pulled out my gun.
The man's eyes widened in horror. "No—please—"
A single gunshot rang through the room. Silence followed.
I turned to my men. "Clean this up and find out who else is working for Romano. Make examples of them."
"Yes, boss."
I wiped the blood from my hands with a silk handkerchief before tossing it onto the body.
Then, as if on cue, my phone chimed. I picked it up.
Carlos.
I exhaled and answered. "Talk."
There was a pause.
Then Carlos's voice came through, sharp and urgent.
"We have a bigger problem," he said. "Someone else is involved in this."
My grip on the phone tightened. "Who?"
Carlos hesitated.
Then he said a name that made my blood run cold.
And just like that, I knew a big war was coming and I was more than ready for it.
I had been waiting for a chance to remind everyone who really ran this city. And if they thought they could take what was mine, they were dead wrong.
A slow smirk curled on my lips. They had no idea what kind of hell they just unleashed. I thrived in chaos, and now, I was about to make them beg for mercy they would never get.