Chapter 5

• 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 sea of 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?