Chapter 7 - The Traitor's Celebration
The downtown mafia headquarters was an impenetrable fortress of elite wealth and illegal power. The top-floor penthouse featured massive floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooking the snowy city skyline, polished marble floors, and expensive leather furniture.
Silas, a slick, arrogant man in his late forties wearing a flashy gray suit, stood near the private bar.
He was holding a crystal glass of Dante’s most expensive, aged whiskey, laughing loudly with three corrupted capos who were loyal to him. Silas felt utterly invincible. He had successfully embezzled millions over the years, and tonight, he knew Clara and her brat were finally going to freeze to death in the slums, permanently erasing the only secret that could destroy him.
"To the future of the syndicate!" Silas cheered arrogantly, raising his crystal glass.
The heavy, steel-reinforced doors of the penthouse suddenly swung open with a violent, echoing crash.
The ambient music was instantly cut. The laughter completely died in the throats of the corrupted capos.
Dante Thorne walked slowly into the massive room. He was no longer wearing his suit jacket, his crisp white shirt stained with dirt from the alleyway, the dark tattoos on his neck flexing visibly as his jaw clenched. He radiated the sheer, crushing aura of an absolute executioner.
Flanking him were heavily armed, fiercely loyal guards who immediately locked the penthouse doors from the inside, completely sealing the room.
Silas’s arrogant smile instantly faltered. He lowered his whiskey glass, a sudden, cold sweat breaking out across his forehead. He had never seen Dante look this terrifyingly unhinged.
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"Dante," Silas stammered, frantically trying to maintain his confident facade. "We were just celebrating the new quarter's profits. Is something wrong?"
👉 Dante didn't answer with words; he reached into his pocket and pulled out an object that made Silas's heart completely stop.
