Thugs Bullied a Waitress—Unaware Her Husband Was a Ruthless Mafia Boss

Matteo didn't dive for cover. He didn't even raise his weapon. He simply walked into the lavish office, staring at Victor with a look of profound disgust.

“Shoot, Victor,” Matteo said softly, taking another step forward. “If you have the stomach for it, pull the trigger. But I promise you, if you miss my heart, I will skin you alive.”

Victor’s finger trembled on the trigger. He was a businessman who played at being a gangster. He ordered hits from safe distances; he didn't look his victims in the eye. Faced with the sheer, unrelenting menace of a true mafia don, Victor’s nerve completely shattered.

He dropped the gold-plated pistol. It clattered uselessly onto the expensive Persian rug.

Victor fell to his knees, raising his hands in surrender. “Take the club. Take the territory. The money on the desk is yours. Just let me walk out of the back door.”

Matteo holstered his weapon. He walked over to Victor, grabbed the younger man by his expensive silk tie, and hauled him viciously to his feet, slamming him against the glass wall of the office overlooking the ruined dance floor.

“You sent men to my house, Victor. You threatened my wife. You don't get to buy your way out of this.”

“It wasn't personal!” Victor choked out, his face turning purple as Matteo twisted the tie tighter. “It was just business! You embarrassed my men at the diner! I had to send a message!”

“Who gave you the order?” Matteo demanded, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

Victor’s eyes widened in genuine confusion. “What? Nobody gives me orders. I run this city!”

Matteo slammed Victor’s head against the glass. “Don't lie to me. You're a coward. You wouldn't have the spine to move against a retired boss unless someone backed your play. Someone told you I was soft. Someone told you where I lived before Jimmy the cook did.”

Victor gasped for air, his bravado entirely broken. “I swear to God, Rossi! I didn't know who you were until the kid from the diner told me! But... but there was a guy.”

Matteo loosened his grip slightly. “What guy?”

“A supplier,” Victor wheezed. “A guy who reached out to me a month ago. He told me the waterfront was empty. He told me if I took over, he would supply the product at half price. He said he hated you.”

“Give me a name,” Matteo growled.

“He didn't give a name!” Victor cried. “He just called himself the Architect. He said he used to be your right hand. He said he was going to take everything you loved.”

Matteo froze, his blood running entirely cold. His right hand... was Dante.

Before Matteo could process the betrayal, a single gunshot echoed through the office. Victor’s eyes went blank, a neat bullet hole appearing perfectly in the center of his forehead.