Chapter 9 - Blood on the Marble
“You call for a vote, Uncle?” Dante’s voice rang out across the ballroom, smooth and icy calm.
Silvio sneered, turning toward his nephew. “The Capos agree with me, Dante. Your time is up.”
“Before you vote, gentlemen,” Dante said, raising his hand toward the balcony, “perhaps you should look at the evidence my assistant has brought us.”
Every head in the ballroom snapped upward.
I walked down the grand marble staircase step by step, keeping my head held high, holding the red ledger out in front of me. The Capos murmured, stepping back to let me pass as I walked straight to Dante’s side.
I handed him the book. “It’s all here,” I said, my voice loud enough for the entire room to hear. “Every payment from the Moretti family to Silvio Rossi over the last eighteen months. The dates, the account numbers, and the coordinates for the dock handovers.”
Silvio’s face went completely white. “She’s lying! She’s a street whore Dante picked up last night!”
Dante opened the ledger to the first page, holding it out for Don Carmine—the oldest and most respected Capo in the room—to see.
Carmine pulled out his reading glasses, scanning the sharp, handwritten figures. His old face hardened into a mask of pure fury.
“This is your handwriting, Silvio,” Carmine growled, looking up from the page. “You sold our shipments to Moretti? You let six of our young men get killed in the harbor raid last month for a payout?”
The atmosphere in the ballroom changed instantly from a political debate to an execution chamber.
Silvio realized he was lost. In a moment of pure desperation, he pulled his revolver from his jacket, aiming it directly at my head.
“You ruined everything!” Silvio shrieked.
Before he could pull the trigger, Dante moved with horrifying speed.
Dante stepped in front of me, grabbing Silvio’s wrist and twisting it upward. A loud CRACK echoed through the hall as Silvio’s arm broke. Silvio screamed in agony, dropping the gun onto the marble floor.
Dante didn't stop. He slammed his fist into Silvio’s jaw, sending the grey-haired man crashing onto his back against the base of the staircase.
Dante pulled his own matte-black pistol from his shoulder holster, pointing it down at his uncle’s trembling chest.
“Dante… please…” Silvio choked out, blood leaking from his mouth. “We’re blood…”
“You lost the right to call me family the day you sold my men to Moretti,” Dante said coldly.
BANG.
The single shot echoed through the mansion.
Silence fell over the ballroom. No one spoke. No one moved.
Don Carmine stepped forward, looking down at Silvio’s body, then up at Dante. He slowly lowered his head in a deep, formal bow.
“The family stands with Don Dante,” Carmine declared loudly.
One by one, every Capo in the room bowed their heads, pledging their absolute loyalty to the undisputed head of the Rossi empire.
Dante holstered his weapon slowly. He didn't look at the crowd, nor did he look at his uncle’s corpse.
He turned to me, reaching out his hand.
“Are you hurt?” he asked softly, his eyes searching my face for any sign of fear.
May you like
I looked at the blood on the floor, then up at Dante’s dark, intense eyes. I took his hand, feeling the warm, solid strength of the man who had just risked everything to protect me.
“I’m fine,” I whispered.
