Chapter 4 - THE INTERROGATION DOWNSTAIRSDown in the main east dining room, the atmosphere was suffocating.
The forty guests sat in stony silence, forbidden from speaking, forbidden from moving, and forbidden from checking their phones. Dylan Burroughs was pacing near the head table like a caged tiger, his face mottled with red rage.
"This is kidnapping! This is unlawful imprisonment!" Dylan shouted for the third time, spinning around to face Viktor, who was leaning casually against the doorframe, cleaning his fingernails with a small pocket knife. "My father is a senior partner at the state’s largest corporate law firm! When Dante Vance walks back through that door, he’s going to—"
"He's going to do whatever the fuck he wants, Mr. Burroughs," Viktor interrupted smoothly, not even looking up. "And right now, he's busy upstairs with the girl and the dog. I'd advise you to practice your breathing exercises. You're going to need them."
Libby Kemp sat slumped in her chair, trembling. Her designer dress was wrinkled, her makeup was streaked with nervous sweat, and her pride had been utterly shredded. For the first time in her pampered, untouchable life, she realized that beauty and social standing were nothing more than tissue paper when faced with true, unbridled power.
"It was just an animal," Libby whispered, her voice cracking as tears spilled down her cheeks. "It was just a stupid, dirty dog..."
"Shut your mouth, Libby," her father snapped, his voice shaking with terror. "Just keep your damn mouth shut."
The heavy oak doors swung open.
Dante Vance walked in, his expression completely blank, devoid of any human warmth. Behind him walked Molly Lane.
She wasn't wearing the stained black apron or the cheap polyester shirt of a Blackwoods waitress. She wore the oversized cashmere sweater, her hair was brushed out, and though her eyes still held a lingering shadow of shock, she walked with a quiet, steady dignity that commanded the room’s attention without asking for it.
Dylan immediately stepped forward, trying to salvage his shattered dignity. "Dante! Thank God. Look, we can clear all this up. Libby made a mistake, she’s stressed about the wedding, let’s just—"
Dante raised a single finger. Dylan stopped dead in his tracks, choking on his own words.
"Dylan," Dante said softly, stepping into the center of the room. "Do you know how I built this city? Do you know why people like you pay me protection money every month?"
Dylan swallowed hard, unable to speak.
"Because I protect what is mine," Dante continued, his slate-grey eyes sweeping over the silent, terrified faces of the elite. "And I destroy what threatens it. Tonight, your fiancée kicked a dog that I raised from a pup. But more than that... she assaulted a woman who showed more humanity in ten seconds than this entire room has displayed in a decade."
Dante turned his gaze directly to Libby, who shrank back into her chair, whimpering.
"Your engagement is canceled, Dylan," Dante announced, his voice ringing clearly off the crystal chandeliers. "Your firm’s contract with my logistics companies is terminated effective immediately. And by morning, your father’s judgeship will be undergoing a federal ethics review for those convenient little zoning permits you two signed last month."
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"You can't do that!" Libby screamed, jumping to her feet in blind panic. "You can't ruin our lives over a stray dog!"
"Watch me," Dante whispered.
