Chapter 10 - Breaking Point
The blade pressed hard enough against my skin that I could feel the sharp, metallic sting of steel drawing a single drop of warm blood down my neck. I held my breath, my eyes locked on Dante as he closed the distance between us with terrifying composure.
"You're bluffing!" Salvatore shouted, his breathing ragged as sweat beaded on his forehead. "You don't care about this waitress! She's just a tool to get to Vance's money!"
"You talk too much, Marco," Dante replied smoothly.
Before Salvatore could react, a deafening crash echoed from the doorway.
Orion.
The massive black hound burst into the room like a living freight train, his midnight fur bristling, baring terrifying white fangs as he lunged straight at Salvatore. The mafia boss shrieked in absolute terror, dropping the knife and stumbling backward just as Orion collided with his chest, knocking him flat onto the concrete floor with bone-shattering force.
Gunfire erupted around the room as Salvatore's remaining men tried to fire, but Moretti's guards moved with ruthless efficiency, disarming and subduing them in a matter of seconds.
Dante didn't look at the chaos. He rushed straight to my chair, his hands flying over the ropes binding my wrists, slicing through the heavy hemp with a pocket knife in seconds.
"Are you hurt?" Dante demanded, his hands gripping my shoulders, his gray eyes searching my face with frantic intensity.
"I'm... I'm okay," I gasped, rubbing my raw wrists as he pulled me up against his chest, shielding me from the lingering smoke and chaos of the room. "Dante, your shoulder—"
"I don't care about my shoulder," he interrupted, pressing his forehead gently against mine, his breathing heavy. "I told you no one touches you."
Salvatore groaned from the floor, pinned beneath Orion's massive front paw with the dog's low, rumbling growl vibrating right against his chest. Dante glanced down at his rival with absolute contempt, raising his pistol and casually clicking the safety off.
"Dante," I whispered, resting my hand against his chest, feeling the frantic, steady drumbeat of his heart. "Don't. Let the law handle him. Or let the federal authorities take him. If you kill him here, it never ends."
Dante looked down at me, the dark, lethal storm in his eyes slowly receding as he met my gaze. He let out a long, slow breath, lowering the weapon slightly.
"You're too soft, Olivia," Dante murmured softly, though a faint, admiring smile touched his lips. "Just like your mother."
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He signaled to his head of security. "Lock him in the lower hold of the freighter. Let the feds find him tied up tied up with a bow tomorrow morning. We're going home."
***
