Chapter 4 - The Viper's Shadow
Silvio Rossi didn't flinch, but his eyes narrowed into venomous slits. He looked past Dante, his gaze landing on me with cold contempt.
“And who is this street trash?” Silvio sneered, taking a step toward me. “Did you pick up a stray while hunting for your brain-dead father?”
“She saved my father’s life tonight,” Dante said, stepping smoothly into Silvio’s line of sight, blocking me with his heavy shoulder. “Which makes her a guest of this house. Speak to her again in that tone, Silvio, and we will see how loyal your Capos are when you’re missing a jaw.”
Silvio’s hand twitched near his jacket lining. Behind him, his two bodyguards visibly tensed, their hands dropping toward their waistbands.
I held my breath, my heart hammering like a trapped bird against my ribs. I was standing in the middle of a mob power struggle, wearing a uniform that smelled of cheap vegetable oil.
“The Moretti family is moving on the docks, Dante,” Silvio said, forcing his hand away from his coat. “They know Arthur is weak. They think you are weak because you spend your time chasing an old man through the rain instead of putting bullets in Moretti’s captains.”
“The docks are secure,” Dante replied coldly. “I handle Moretti. You handle the waste management accounts like you’re told. Now get out of my sight.”
Silvio stared at Dante for three long, agonizing seconds before letting out a harsh bark of laughter. “Enjoy your street girl, Don Dante. Let’s hope she’s worth the trouble when the blood starts spilling.”
Silvio turned on his heel and walked out, his men following close behind, slamming the heavy mahogany doors behind them.
The silence that returned to the study was heavy and suffocating.
Dante took a deep breath, adjusting the cuffs of his tailored shirt. He picked up his glass, finished his scotch in one long draft, and looked back at me.
“He’s going to try to kill you,” I whispered, the realization hitting me like a bucket of ice water.
Dante glanced at me, surprised by my deduction. “Silvio?”
“He wants your position,” I said, my mind racing through everything I’d just seen. “Your father is his weakness, and tonight I fixed that weakness by keeping him alive. Silvio didn't want your father found. He wanted him hit by a truck so he could call you unfit to lead.”
Dante stared at me, his dark eyes searching my face with a new intensity. “You saw all that from a two-minute conversation?”
“I’ve worked night shifts at a diner in Chicago for three years, Mr. Rossi,” I said bitterly. “I know what desperate, evil men look like when they’re trying to hide an opportunity.”
Dante walked slowly toward me, stopping just inches away. Up close, I could smell the faint scent of rain and expensive cologne on his coat.
“You are far too smart to be destroying your life serving eggs to truck drivers, Chloe,” Dante murmured, his voice rich and low.
“It pays my rent,” I said, refusing to back away despite the terror fluttering in my stomach.
“Not anymore,” Dante said quietly. He pulled out his phone and dialed a short number. “Teresa. Prepare the guest suite on the third floor for Miss Wells. Send up clothing, clean towels, and dinner. She stays under 24-hour guard.”
“Wait—” I started.
Dante raised a single finger, stopping my protest. “Silvio saw your face tonight, Chloe. If you leave this house, his men will pick you up off the street before sunrise to use you as leverage against me. You aren't safe out there anymore.”
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“Because of you!” I yelled, anger finally overriding my fear. “I was fine an hour ago! I had a boring, peaceful, miserable life!”
“You were nearly run over saving an old man who didn't even know his own name,” Dante said softly, his dark eyes softening just a fraction. “You have a good heart, Chloe. In my world, that’s a lethal flaw. So until I handle Silvio… you belong to me.”
