Chapter 8 - The Boardroom ShowdownThe forty-second floor of the Valente Global Tower looked out over the entire skyline of Baltimore.
Inside the massive glass-walled boardroom, twelve members of the board of directors sat in uneasy silence. At the head of the polished mahogany table sat Julian Vance, a sleek, silver-haired man in an expensive Brioni suit, tapping a gold pen against the wood.
“Gentlemen,” Julian said smoothly, his voice echoing in the tense room. “We have waited long enough. Dante’s reckless lifestyle and recent entanglement with underworld factions have put this entire enterprise at risk. I move that we invoke Section Nine of the corporate charter and strip him of executive authority immediately.”
Murmurs of agreement rippled through half the board members. The other half stared down at their portfolios, too terrified of Dante’s retaliation to speak, yet too greedy for Julian’s promised payouts to object.
“I second the motion,” said Arthur Pendelton, the senior board member, raising his hand.
“Motion carried,” Julian declared, a triumphant smile spreading across his handsome face. “Effective immediately, I assume—"
Clack. Clack. Clack.
The heavy mahogany double doors of the boardroom swung open with a resounding bang.
Every head turned in unison.
Dante Valente walked into the room with unhurried, terrifying grace. But it wasn't just Dante who commanded the room's attention. Walking right beside him on a heavy leather leash was Brutus—the massive black Cane Corso, his chest puffed out, eyes scanning the room like a tactical commander.
And trailing slightly behind them, looking intensely out of place in her faded denim jacket and sneakers, was Emily Parker.
Julian Vance’s face drained of all color. The gold pen slipped from his fingers, clattering loudly against the mahogany table.
“Dante,” Julian choked out, standing up so fast his chair screeched against the floor. “You… you can't be here. Security—guards!”
“My guards are currently downstairs, Julian,” Dante said smoothly, walking to the head of the table. He didn't sit down. He simply stood behind the oversized leather chair, resting his hands on the back. “As for security, I found that yours left a lot to be desired. Especially when it comes to perimeter infiltration.”
“This is a private corporate meeting!” Julian shouted, his composure cracking as panic bled into his voice. “You have been voted out! You have no authority here!”
Dante let out a low, cold laugh. He reached down and unclipped Brutus’s leash.
The massive dog didn't charge. He trotted with deliberate, heavy footsteps straight toward Julian Vance’s end of the table. Every board member flinched, pulling their chairs back in sheer terror.
Brutus stopped directly in front of Julian, planted his massive paws squarely on the man’s polished Italian leather shoes, and sat down—refusing to move an inch.
Just like he had done in the grooming shop forty-eight hours ago.
“What is the dog doing?” Julian stammered, sweating profusely under his collar, trying to kick his feet back without looking like a coward. “Get this beast away from me!”
“He’s not a beast, Julian,” Dante said, his voice dropping into a lethal, quiet register. “He’s an auditor.”
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Dante reached into his breast pocket, pulled out the micro-perforated memory card Emily had pulled from the collar, and tossed it onto the glass screen embedded in the center of the mahogany table.
“And he brought your resignation.”
