Chapter 8 - The Trapped Rat
"You set me up for a hit," Dante stated, slowly lowering the phone. He looked at the woman he was supposed to marry in two weeks.
"Dante, please!" Isabella cried out, dropping her arrogant facade completely. Tears of genuine, suffocating terror streamed down her face. "My father forced me! The cartel threatened my family! I had no choice!"
She spun around on her heels, sprinting frantically toward the heavy mahogany front doors. She reached for the brass handle, desperate to escape into the freezing New York night before Dante’s men arrived.
"Lock the doors."
Dante didn't yell. He barely spoke above a whisper.
Instantly, the shadows of the foyer shifted. Four elite, heavily armed syndicate bodyguards stepped out from the adjoining hallways. They moved in perfect, lethal synchronization. One of the massive guards stepped in front of the door, completely blocking Isabella’s escape.
Isabella crashed into the guard's chest, sobbing hysterically as she pounded her manicured fists against his bulletproof vest. The guard didn't even blink. He grabbed her aggressively by the arms, spinning her around and forcing her to face the man she had just betrayed.
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Dante walked slowly toward her. His highly polished shoes clicked ominously against the marble.
👉 Dante stood over the weeping traitor, ready to deliver a judgment that would echo through the entire criminal underworld.
