The Mafia Boss's Fiancée Kicked a Poor Waitress for Saving a Dying Dog — She Had No Idea Whose Dog It Really Was.

Vance laughed hysterically. "Pay? Look around you, Kayla! I have sixteen men with automatic rifles! You have two bodyguards and an old, dying mutt! Fire!"

Silence met his command.

Vance blinked, turning around. "I said, FIRE!"

None of his men moved.

Through the rain, the shadows behind Vance’s men began to detach themselves from the dark hedges. Dozens of tall figures in dark coats stepped into the street, stepping silently behind Vance’s mercenaries. Each mercenary suddenly felt the cold press of a silenced barrel against the back of their necks.

Out of the darkness walked six elderly men in immaculate wool coats—the surviving members of Richard Cross’s original High Council. Men who controlled the docks, the unions, and the shipping lines across four states.

The oldest council member, a silver-haired man named Arthur, stepped forward, holding a black leather umbrella.

"Dominic," Arthur said, his voice deep and resonant. "You forgot the first rule of the syndicate."

Vance’s face turned ghastly white. "Arthur...? What are you doing here?!"

"When Richard passed, we swore an oath to protect his widow," Arthur said coldly. "We allowed you to run your petty rackets because Kayla asked us to let you live. But when you pointed a gun at Richard’s dog... you broke the pact."

In less than ten seconds, all sixteen of Vance’s mercenaries were disarmed, forced onto their knees in the wet asphalt without a single shot being fired.

Vance stood alone in the center of the street, his rifle dropping from his limp hands, hitting the wet pavement with a heavy splash.

Kayla walked down the remaining porch steps, stopping three feet away from him. Milo trotted beside her, sitting down on the wet grass, looking up at Vance with calm, amber eyes.

"You thought I was weak because I chose peace, Dominic," Kayla whispered, stepping close enough that Vance could see his own terrified reflection in her eyes. "You thought because I didn't carry a gun, I forgot how to use power. But power isn't a weapon. Power is knowing that with one word, I can end your entire existence."