Chapter 3 - The Weight of Absolute PowerThere were no warning shouts. No threats.
Only shadows entering the room. Dozens of men in sharp black suits, wearing leather jackets emblazoned with a ruby-encrusted crest—the signature seal of the Castellanos—poured into the cramped space. They lined up in two parallel rows, carving a sacred, terrifying path through the room.
And down the center of that path walked one man.
Knox Castellano.
His dark overcoat billowed slightly with his stride, his chiseled face carved from stone, his amber eyes sweeping across the room to linger briefly on Old Ray's blood before dropping to the floor.
Right where Belle was holding Caesar tight against her chest.
"Boss..." Marcus murmured.
Knox didn't look at anyone else. He walked straight past Preston and Veronica—the very people who, moments ago, had been arrogant, now turning pale white as they pressed themselves hard against the wall.
He knelt down on one knee right beside Belle.
The wind blowing through the open door ruffled Belle's messy hair. She looked up, her right cheek stained a angry, burning red, her tear-filled eyes wide with panic as she stared at the imposing stranger kneeling before her.
Knox didn't look at Belle at first. His gaze was locked entirely on the massive creature fighting for breath in her arms.
"Caesar," Knox whispered, his voice trembling—the first time in his life the underworld king showed a chink in his armor.
The Mastiff twitched. It opened one eye, recognized the familiar scent, and weakly extended its dry tongue to lick Knox's reaching hand.
May you like
"You promised my sister... you'd take care of him," Knox muttered before lifting his head.
The second Knox Castellano's amber eyes locked onto Brock Harding and his crew, the temperature in the room plummeted below freezing.
