Chapter 1 - The Kingpin Kneels
The crystal flute in Dante Moretti’s hand shattered onto the stone pavers, sending shards of glass flying into the manicured rose bushes.
The city’s most feared syndicate boss did not look at the seventy frozen billionaires standing beneath the glittering string lights.
He did not look at Celeste, whose triumphant sneer was beginning to rot into pure, unadulterated terror.
His dark, obsidian eyes were locked entirely onto the shivering woman in the water and the tiny girl standing alone on the terrace.
Four-year-old Maya stood in her damp lavender pajamas, her small chest heaving with silent, heartbroken sobs.
Dante stepped forward, his heavy leather dress shoes clicking against the flagstones with the terrifying rhythm of an approaching thunderstorm.
Without removing his bespoke eight-thousand-dollar charcoal jacket, Dante stepped directly off the edge of the limestone coping into the freezing depths of the infinity pool.
The water exploded around his broad shoulders in a violent, cascading wave.
Seventy high-society guests gasped in collective horror, several women clutching their diamond necklaces as if the world were ending.
Dante waded through the water in three powerful, effortless strides, reaching Elena before her trembling fingers slipped from the slick stone.
He slid his massive, scarred arms beneath her soaked frame, lifting her effortlessly against his chest as if she weighed nothing at all.
Elena gasped, choking on chlorinated water, her wide brown eyes staring into Dante’s face with a mixture of raw terror and disbelief.
“Marcus…” Elena whispered, her lips blue from the biting wind, her consciousness drifting on the edge of hypothermic shock.
“I have you, Elena,” Dante spoke, his voice cracking with a grief so profound that the surrounding guards lowered their heads in reverence.
“I swear on my brother’s grave, you will never be pushed into the dark again.”
Dante climbed the submerged marble steps, carrying Elena out of the pool and stepping back onto the torch-lit terrace.
The pool water dripped from his tailored suit onto the stone, mixing with Elena’s tears.
He walked directly over to little Maya, slowly lowering himself onto one knee on the wet ground while still cradling Elena in his left arm.
Maya looked at the towering man who had terrified kings and senators, reaching out one tiny, trembling hand to touch his wet cheek.
“Are you going to help my mommy?” Maya asked in a fragile, raspy whisper.
Dante reached up, his massive, calloused hand gently catching the little girl’s trembling fingers with breathtaking tenderness.
“I am going to give your mommy the entire world, little star,” Dante whispered, a single tear cutting through the cold water on his cheek.
“And I am going to make every person who laughed at her beg for her mercy on their knees.”
Dante stood up to his full six-foot-three height, turning his gaze toward Celeste Moretti.
The warmth in his eyes died instantly, replaced by an arctic, homicidal void that caused Celeste to stagger backward against the terrace railing.
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“Lock the iron perimeter gates,” Dante commanded his chief of security, his voice echoing across the sound like a crack of thunder.
“Nobody leaves this estate alive until my sister-in-law receives her justice.”
