The harbor was a graveyard of cold steel and dark water. The smoke from the fires hung low over the docks, making it hard to breathe.
Dante stood at the edge of the pier. He held a heavy rifle in his hands, and his face was covered in the soot of the battle. He looked like a demon rising from the fog.
He was not there for the money. He was there for the truth.
"Boss! We have three of them cornered in the warehouse!" Etienne shouted over the sound of the wind.
Dante did not run. He walked. He moved with the slow, steady pace of a man who knew his enemies had nowhere to go.
Inside the warehouse, three men were tied to chairs. They were breathing hard, their eyes wide with terror as Dante stepped into the light.
"You delayed my ship," Dante said. His voice was a low, terrifying rumble. "You thought that by slowing down my business, you could weaken my house."
He leaned in close to the man in the middle. "I am the richest man in this country. I can buy and sell your lives ten times over before breakfast. The money does not matter to me."
Dante grabbed the man's throat, his grip tightening. "What matters is the betrayal. Who gave you the codes? Who told you that tonight was the night to strike?"
The man tried to speak, but he was shaking too hard. "I... I can't tell you, Dante! They will kill my family!"
Dante let out a dark, cold laugh. "If you do not tell me, I will make sure you don't have a family to worry about. You are standing in my harbor, on my land, breathing my air."
Suddenly, Dante's phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, expecting a report of more chaos. Instead, it was a message from the hospital.
He saw the security footage of Leo. He saw his fiancé breaking the wrist of an attacker. He saw Leo standing in the middle of the lobby, commanding the elite guards and threatening the rival families.
Dante stopped. A slow, proud smirk grew on his face. He felt a rush of heat in his chest that had nothing to do with the war around him.
"Look at him," Dante whispered to himself. "My beautiful, lethal Leo."
He turned back to the traitors. His mood had changed. He was no longer just angry; he was inspired by his fiancé's strength.
"You are lucky today," Dante told the men. "My fiancé just sent me a reminder of why I rule this city. He is currently cleaning up the mess you made at the hospital. He told me that if I come back with even one scratch, he will lock me out of the house."
Dante looked at his own hands. He had been fighting hard, but he remembered Leo's warning. He remembered the command Leo gave to both him and Etienne.
"Etienne!" Dante called out.
"Yes, Boss?" Etienne stepped forward, looking nervous.
"Leo said if I get injured, you don't get to come home. And honestly? I don't want to sleep on the street tonight. So, we are going to finish this fast and we are going to finish it clean."
Dante turned his attention back to the leader of the traitors. He didn't use his gun. He used his presence. He leaned down until his forehead touched the man's.
"This is your last chance to live," Dante hissed. "My fiancé is waiting for me. I want to go home to my husband-to-be. Give me the name of the man who hired you, and I might let you crawl out of here alive."
The man broke. He screamed the name of a high-ranking official—someone inside the government who had been working with the rivals.
Dante stood up straight. He adjusted his coat. He felt the weight of his empire, but for the first time, it didn't feel heavy. It felt shared.
"Clean this up, Etienne," Dante commanded. "Make sure the ship moves by morning. I have a hospital to visit, and I need to make sure I don't have any blood on my shirt before Leo sees me."
Dante walked out of the warehouse and toward his car. He was the King of the docks, but he knew that at the hospital, an even more powerful Master was waiting for him.
The Mafia was stronger than ever. They didn't just have a Boss. They had a team that the world could never break.