Chapter 6 - The Enforcer's LoyaltyUpstairs in the estate’s secure veterinary wing, the massive Neapolitan mastiff lay stretched out on a thick orthopedic bed. Its surgical wounds were tightly dressed, and an IV drip hung quietly from a steel stand beside the bed.
The heavy oak door opened with a soft click, and Alio Valente stepped inside alone. He had dismissed the guards outside, leaving only himself and the beast.
The dog didn't raise its head immediately, but its dark, intelligent eyes tracked Alio’s every movement as he walked slowly across the room. Alio pulled up a wooden chair and sat down a few feet away, resting his elbows on his knees.
"They call you a monster on the streets, you know," Alio said softly, his voice devoid of the cold armor he wore around his men. "They look at your size, your scars, and they assume you're only good for tearing things apart."
The mastiff let out a deep, rumbling sigh, its heavy chest rising and falling.
"I know what it’s like," Alio continued, staring down at his own calloused hands. "To build a wall so high that nobody can reach you. To lose everything in a single night and spend years waiting for the world to burn."
Alio reached out slowly, extending his palm upward, palm open and completely unprotected.
The mastiff slowly lifted its massive head. For a second, the air hung suspended. Then, with a slow, deliberate effort, the dog shifted its weight forward and pressed its heavy, warm snout directly into the center of Alio’s palm.
A heavy wave of emotion washed over Alio—a feeling he hadn't allowed himself to experience since the day his mother was taken from him. He wrapped his arm around the dog’s thick neck, burying his hand in the gray fur.
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"I don't know what they did to you, big guy," Alio murmured, his voice cracking slightly. "I don't know how you survived long enough to find me. But I’ll make you a promise. Nobody touches you ever again. And Vincent Rossi... we're going to settle his debt, permanently."
Outside the window, the morning storm clouds began to break, letting a harsh, golden ray of Chicago sunlight pierce through the glass. But inside the room, the real storm was just beginning to brew.
