Chapter 17 - The Blood of the Kingmaker
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But Carmine’s guards didn't raise their weapons.
They stood perfectly still, looking at Dante.
Dante offered a dark, mocking smile. "Did you really think I spent the last month just mourning, Uncle? While you were sitting in your mansion, I was buying the loyalty of your men. They answer to me now."
Carmine stumbled backward, his face turning an ashen gray. He was completely, utterly alone. The kingmaker had been outplayed by the nephews he underestimated.
"The penalty for treason against your own blood is death," Matteo said, stepping forward, drawing a sleek, silver pistol from his jacket.
"Matteo, please!" Carmine begged, dropping to his knees, his aristocratic pride entirely broken. "I raised you! I loved you like my own sons!"
"You loved power," Matteo corrected coldly. "And you tried to murder my brother to get it."
Matteo didn't hesitate. He pulled the trigger.
A single shot echoed through the vault. Carmine collapsed onto the marble floor, dead before he hit the ground.
The other four bosses remained seated, their faces impassive. In their world, justice was brutal, swift, and absolute.
Matteo holstered his weapon and turned to the table.
"The Moretti family is unified," Matteo announced, his voice commanding absolute respect. "I am the head of this syndicate, and Dante is my underboss. Any man who challenges our claim will share my Uncle’s fate."
The bosses nodded in unison. The king had reclaimed his throne, and the war was officially over.
Dante and Matteo walked out of the hotel, leaving the cleanup to their men. The crisp city air hit their faces, a refreshing contrast to the smell of blood and gunpowder in the vault.
"You did good, little brother," Matteo murmured, leaning heavily on his cane as the adrenaline faded.
"We did good," Dante corrected, helping his brother into the back of their armored SUV.
As they drove back toward the Tower, Dante pulled out his phone and dialed the penthouse.
"Elina," Dante breathed the moment she answered, his voice thick with overwhelming relief. "It’s over. We won. I’m coming home."
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He heard her sob with joy on the other end of the line. The nightmare was finally finished.
But as the SUV navigated through the busy Manhattan traffic, Dante’s phone buzzed with an incoming text from an unknown, encrypted number.
