The Mafia Boss Ordered His Men to Draw Their Weapons — Until the Furious Little Girl Demanded Her Pink Shoe Back

"No! Dante, I beg of you!" Julian shrieked, thrashing wildly under the crushing weight of the elite guards. "I built this empire with you! I protected you when she ran away!"

"You stole my daughter," Dante corrected ruthlessly, entirely immune to the fake, pathetic tears.

He pulled his encrypted smartphone from his tailored navy blue suit jacket.

"Initiate the complete liquidation of Julian's personal and offshore accounts," Dante ordered his Chief Financial Officer, putting the phone on speaker so the traitor could hear his own devastation.

"Please! I have debts! They'll kill me!" Julian wailed, clawing at the cheap linoleum.

"Transfer every single stolen dollar directly into an irrevocable trust fund under Sophie's name," Dante continued coldly, completely ignoring his brother. "Call in his corporate debts. Freeze his illegal supply chains. I want him entirely bankrupt, destitute, and stripped of every asset he owns by the time the market opens."

"Understood, Boss," the CFO replied smoothly. "The transfer is complete. He is entirely insolvent."

Julian let out a horrific, guttural shriek of pure agony. He had murdered and manipulated for a massive empire, and in exactly sixty seconds, he had lost absolutely everything he ever owned.

But the financial destruction was only the very beginning of his punishment.

"Dante, please! I'll leave the country! I'll confess to the police! Just let me go to federal prison!" Julian sobbed, drool and tears ruining his expensive suit.

Dante slowly crouched down, looking directly into the terrified traitor's eyes.