POV: DANTE
The vehicle moved through the New York night with military precision.
Luca was driving, not fast enough to draw attention, but with the absolute certainty of a man who knew exactly where he was going and how to get there without being followed.
Dante was in the back seat, his legs screaming with pain, his mind absolutely sharp despite the blood loss and the shock of the day's catastrophic events.
He understood what had happened.
He'd come at Dimitri Valentino with a plan, with leverage, with intelligence, and with the kind of operational precision that should have worked. But Dimitri had moved faster. Dimitri had better resources. Dimitri had been operating at a level above Dante's capabilities.
Intellectually, Dante accepted this reality.
But emotionally, spiritually, with every fiber of his being....he refused to accept it.
"How far to the safe house?" Dante asked, his voice steady despite the pain.
