Chapter 9 - The Dragon’s Justice
Inside the vault, Alina watched the tactical monitors on the wall with her heart hammering in her throat.
On the black-and-white thermal camera feeds, she watched Dante move through the grand courtyard below. Armed with total knowledge of his domain, he systematically dismantled Moretti’s strike team alongside Marco and his loyal guards.
Within fifteen minutes, the remaining Moretti mercenaries were disarmed, pinned against the courtyard wall, or fleeing into the forested hills.
In the center of the rain-slicked courtyard stood Anthony Moretti—the sixty-year-old boss of the rival family who had ordered the hit on her mother twenty years ago.
On the monitor, Alina watched Dante walk up to Moretti.
Dante didn't raise his weapon. He simply towered over the older mobster, his burgundy vest soaked with rain, the dragon tattoo on his neck glowing dark under the floodlights.
Moretti fell to his knees in the wet gravel, screaming frantic pleas for mercy that echoed faintly through the vault intercom system.
Dante spoke a single sentence—words Alina couldn't hear through the glass—before raising his arm and delivering a brutal, decisive blow that ended the thirty-year syndicate war once and for all.
Ten minutes later, the pneumatic seal on the panic vault hissed open.
The warm, yellow light of the hallway spilled into the room. Dante stood in the doorway. His tactical vest was removed, his shirt sleeves rolled back up, his hands clean. He looked tired, but his posture was that of an undisputed king standing over his reclaimed domain.
Alina stood up from the sofa, holding sleeping baby Leo in her arms.
Dante walked into the room, stopping right in front of her. "It's over, Lena. The Moretti family is finished. The city is secure."
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Alina looked at him, tears of relief spilling over her cheeks. Without a word, she stepped forward and wrapped her free arm around her uncle’s broad chest, burying her face against his shoulder.
Dante froze for a fraction of a second—unaccustomed to emotional display—before his broad, tattooed arm wrapped securely around her, holding both her and his baby son close against his heart.
