Chapter 6 - Blood in the GlassBefore Dante could make a move toward the bar, Don Salvatore Moretti raised his glass, calling for silence across the crowded hall. The ambient chatter died away instantly, replaced by a tense, heavy hush.
“Vescari,” Moretti called out, his voice gravelly and dripping with fake cordiality. “Word on the street is you’ve expanded your collection from shipping ports and real estate to stray animals and disgraced veterinary techs. Tell me, is it true you brought a common criminal into our inner circle?”
All eyes in the room snapped to us. Dozens of powerful men and women stared, waiting to see how the great Dante Vescari would handle a public challenge.
I felt the heat rise to my cheeks, but I refused to look down. I straightened my posture, lifting my chin just as I had when I stared down the bleeding pit bull in the basement.
Dante didn't flinch. He didn't raise his voice. He simply took a slow sip of his whiskey, set the crystal glass down on a passing waiter’s tray with a sharp clink, and looked directly at Moretti.
“Salvatore,” Dante replied, his voice carrying effortlessly across the silent room. “Some men collect enemies. Some men collect debts. And some men”—he glanced sideways at Julian Vance, who was sweating profusely behind Moretti—“employ cowards who abuse animals and forge medical records to cover their own incompetence.”
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
Julian stepped forward, emboldened by Moretti’s presence. “She’s a fraud, Don Vescari! She was fired for drug diversion! She doesn't belong in a room like this!”
Dante turned his head slowly, locking his dark eyes onto Julian.
“She belongs wherever I put her,” Dante said, each word landing like a gunshot. “And you, Julian... you’re standing in a room full of dangerous people, talking about a woman who spent her night nursing my dog back to health while you were busy ruining lives over insurance fraud. You have thirty seconds to walk out that front door before I let Titan off his leash.”
The mention of the legendary pit bull made several mobsters visibly flinch. Julian turned pale, stammering incoherently before turning tail and practically running toward the exit.
May you like
Moretti’s face hardened into a mask of pure fury. “You think you’re untouchable, Vescari.”
“I don't think, Salvatore,” Dante whispered, stepping in front of me protectively. “I know.”
