Chapter 4 - The Treason of Blood
The battle in the courtyard lasted less than ten minutes. The Salvatichi security detail was an elite military-grade force, and the Falcone hit squad was completely dismantled before they could reach the main house.
When the heavy steel door of the safe room clicked open, Dante stood there, his coat removed, his shirtsleeves rolled up to reveal forearms covered in old tactical tattoos. There was a smear of soot on his cheek, but his hands were perfectly steady as he reached for his son.
"It's over," Dante said, carrying Ethan out into the study. "But the breach didn't happen from the outside. Someone sold the gate access codes."
Marco entered, carrying a leather binder retrieved from one of the dead assassins. "Don Dante... the codes were leaked from a terminal inside our downtown shipping office. The digital signature belongs to your cousin, Vincent."
Dante’s face transformed into an mask of absolute stone. Vincent was his blood, the man who managed the syndicate’s legal logistics. A betrayal from within the family was a mortal wound to an organization like the Salvatichi.
"Bring Vincent to the warehouse," Dante commanded, his voice so quiet it was terrifying.
"Dante, wait," Grace stepped out of the safe room, her face pale but determined. She had kept Ethan behind her, shielded from the conversation. "If you do this... if you go down the path of pure vengeance in front of him, Ethan will never escape this cycle. He knows what's happening. Children understand the shadows, Dante."
Dante turned to her, his jaw tight. "Vincent tried to buy my son's life for a piece of the docks, Grace. In my world, blood must pay for blood."
"Then change your world," Grace countered, stepping closer to him, her green eyes flashing with an unyielding fire. "You told me I was under your protection. Let me protect your soul, too. Don't let Ethan grow up to be a ghost in a fortress."
May you like
Dante stared at her, the lethal don warring with the father who had spent two years mourning in isolation. Slowly, his shoulders dropped just a fraction. He turned to Marco. "Hand Vincent over to the federal authorities. Give them the unredacted shipping ledgers from his office. Let the law bury him."
Marco blinked in absolute shock, but he bowed. "Yes, Don Dante."
