Chapter 7 - The Desperate Command
The cinematic realism of the traitors' absolute panic was paralyzing.
Marcus realized instantly that if the waitress was alive, the voicemail was exposed. Driven by pure, animalistic desperation, he drew a heavy, suppressed handgun from his trench coat.
"Shoot them!" Marcus shrieked at the armed guards standing around the cliff. "Dante has been compromised! The waitress is an assassin! Fire your weapons now!"
Elena screamed, backing away toward the Bentley.
The tension was absolutely suffocating. Marcus was technically the second-in-command. He expected the guards to blindly follow his violent orders.
Not a single guard raised their weapon.
They stood perfectly still in the freezing rain, their eyes locked entirely on Dante.
Dante didn't even flinch at Marcus's drawn gun. He slowly stepped in front of Cara, his broad shoulders completely shielding her from the traitor. The terrifying, unbreakable calm of the mafia boss made the air feel heavier than the storm.
"You really thought my personal detail answered to you, Marcus?" Dante growled softly, his voice devoid of any human mercy.
Dante raised his hand and snapped his fingers once.
In flawless, terrifying unison, all twelve elite guards cocked their heavy rifles and aimed them directly at Marcus and Elena.
Marcus’s hand began to shake violently. He dropped his weapon onto the wet asphalt, raising his hands in sheer defeat.
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"Dante, please!" Elena wailed hysterically, dropping to her knees in the mud, completely abandoning her high-society persona. "He forced me to do it! Marcus threatened me! I love you! I was going to be your wife!"
👉 Dante looked down at the weeping monsters, and the financial ruin he was about to unleash would destroy their souls.
