Chapter 4 - The Shield
Dante stood entirely still, absorbing the brutal, honest truth of my words. He looked at Elias, who was watching him with tired, curious eyes from the safety of my shoulder. The devastation that had been on Dante's face in the boardroom vanished, replaced by a look of absolute, breathtaking reverence.
He didn't see a liability. He saw the source of my strength.
"You thought I would use him against you," Dante murmured, taking a slow step backward, giving me space.
"I didn't know what you would do," I admitted, holding Elias tighter. "And I couldn't risk finding out."
The heavy silence was suddenly broken by the sharp, violent sound of my front door being kicked open.
I spun around. Rafael stood in the doorway, smelling of cheap scotch and stale desperation. He looked disheveled, his eyes wild and angry.
"You blocked my number, Valentina?" Rafael slurred, stumbling into my apartment. "You think you can just shut me out? I know you're hiding the kid in here. You need a real man to—"
Rafael stopped dead in his tracks.
He had expected to find a single mother he could intimidate. Instead, he found himself standing ten feet away from the most feared mafia boss on the eastern seaboard.
Dante didn't yell. He didn't reach for a weapon. He simply turned around to face Rafael, and the temperature in the room dropped to absolute zero. The vulnerable man who had just looked at my son vanished. The monster returned.
"Take Elias into the bedroom, Valentina," Dante ordered, his voice a lethal, terrifying whisper.
"Dante—" I started.
"Now," he commanded softly, not taking his eyes off Rafael.
I carried Elias into the bedroom and locked the door behind me, pressing my back against the wood. I listened to the heavy, terrifying silence in the living room. There was no shouting. There was only the sound of a brief, violent struggle, a choked gasp, and the unmistakable sound of a body being dragged across the hardwood floor.
Ten minutes later, there was a soft knock on my bedroom door.
"It's clear," Dante's voice came through the wood.
May you like
I opened the door. The apartment was empty. Rafael was gone. Dante was standing by the kitchen island, adjusting the cuffs of his white shirt. There was a faint smudge of blood on his knuckles.
"He won't ever contact you again," Dante stated flatly. "He is currently having a conversation with my security team in a soundproof room in the Bronx. When they are finished, he will be placed on a one-way flight to a very distant country, and he will understand that returning means death."
