Chapter 6 - Blood on the Tasting TableThe private tasting lounge on the second floor of Bellamy House was bathed in the warm, amber glow of crystal chandeliers. Soft jazz played from concealed speakers, and three city councilmen sat around a mahogany table, laughing as Julian Sterling poured them glasses of vintage champagne.
Julian was impeccably dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, his blond hair styled to perfection as he smiled and made polite small talk.
The heavy mahogany double doors swung open with a loud, resounding crash.
The jazz music cut off instantly.
Julian turned, his smile freezing on his face as Dante Moretti walked into the room, flanked by Mercer and Mara.
"Mr. Moretti!" Julian stammered, stepping away from the table. "We... we weren't expecting you. The restaurant is closed for private—"
"Quiet, Julian," Dante said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion.
The city councilmen scrambled out of their chairs, pale-faced and trembling. "Dante—we didn't know—we were just discussing zoning permits—"
"Get out," Dante said without looking at them.
The councilmen didn't need to be told twice. They bolted toward the exit, tripping over each other as they scrambled out into the hallway, slamming the doors behind them.
Julian stood alone by the tasting table, his hands trembling as he gripped the neck of an open champagne bottle.
"Mr. Moretti, I assure you, whatever misunderstanding—"
Mara stepped forward, slamming her tablet onto the mahogany table right in front of him. The screen displayed the bank transfer records, the Cayman Islands account details, and the auxiliary prep station logs.
"You didn't just pour wine, Julian," Mara said coldly. "You brewed the compound that nearly killed a six-year-old child."
Julian’s face turned the color of ash. He looked from the tablet to Dante, then toward the door. Realizing there was no escape, his expression shifted from panic to a twisted, desperate defiance.
"You think you own this city, Dante!" Julian shouted, his voice cracking hysterically. "You think you can rule the docks, the courts, and the restaurants like a king! The O'Connors are coming! They’re taking it all back—every block, every dollar, every drop of blood!"
Julian’s hand flashed downward toward his waistband, grabbing a heavy, concealed ceramic blade.
He lunged across the table directly at Dante.
It all happened in a fraction of a second.
Before Mercer could draw his weapon, Mara moved. She grabbed the heavy crystal champagne bucket from the side table and swung it with all her strength directly into Julian’s jaw.
The heavy lead crystal connected with a sickening crack.
Julian’s eyes rolled back, his legs folding underneath him as he collapsed hard onto the Persian rug, the ceramic knife clattering across the floorboards.
Silence filled the room once more, broken only by the sound of heavy breathing.
Dante looked down at the unconscious sommelier, then slowly turned his gaze to Mara, who was standing with her chest heaving, still clutching the heavy crystal bucket.
May you like
For a long moment, Dante said nothing. Then, a slow, genuine smile spread across his face—the first real smile Mara had seen since the night of the birthday party.
"Remind me," Dante said quietly, stepping over Julian's body, "never to play poker with you."
