Chapter 3 - The King’s Protection
Dante wore a dark tailored coat, his steel-gray eyes glowing like hot coal under the streetlamps. He didn't rush. He didn't shout. He simply walked down the center of the alley as if he owned the bricks beneath his feet.
Behind him, six heavily armed men stepped out of the shadows, instantly surrounding Richard and his two hired thugs with red laser sights painting their chests.
Richard’s face turned gray. He raised his hands slowly, looking at the armed men in terror. "Who... who the hell are you? This is a family matter! This is my wife!"
Dante didn't answer him. He walked straight past Richard, stopping beside Clare.
With unbelievable gentleness, Dante reached down, effortlessly breaking the thug’s grip on Clare’s wrist. He pushed the man back, and Marco instantly stepped in, smashing the butt of his pistol into the thug’s jaw, knocking him unconscious onto the cobblestones.
"Are you hurt, Clare?" Dante asked softly, his eyes scanning her face and hands with intense concern.
"I... I'm okay," Clare gasped, her chest heaving, tears spilling down her cheeks as she pulled Maya into her arms. "Dante... how did you find us?"
"I never stopped watching over you," Dante admitted quietly. He turned his head slowly to face Richard Peterson.
Richard was trembling, his arrogant corporate demeanor vanishing instantly under the terrifying weight of Dante’s presence. "Listen to me! I am an American citizen! I am a senior executive at Peterson Logistics! You can't touch me!"
Dante stepped closer to Richard. He was taller, broader, and radiated an ancient, lethal authority that made Richard back up against the side of his SUV.
"Richard Peterson," Dante said softly, his voice a low, terrifying rumble. "You track women. You strike children. You make noise in my city."
"This is my family!" Richard screamed desperately. "She is my legal wife!"
"In my world, a man who hurts a child has no rights," Dante whispered, leaning in close to Richard’s ear. "In my world, a man like you simply ceases to exist."
Richard’s eyes widened in pure, unadulterated horror. "Please... please..."
Dante looked over his shoulder at Marco. "Take Mr. Peterson and his driver to the docks. Ensure his passport is destroyed, his phone is wiped, and he spends the next forty-eight hours reflecting on his manners in a shipping container heading for North Africa."
"No! You can't do this! Police! Somebody help!" Richard screamed as Marco and two guards grabbed him by the arms, dragging him kicking and screaming into the back of an unmarked van.
Within two minutes, the alley was quiet once more.
Clare stood shaking against the wall, holding Maya tightly against her chest. The reality of what had just happened—the gunfire, the armed men, the disappearance of her husband—was crashing over her in violent waves.
Dante turned back to her. He pulled off his heavy wool coat and carefully draped it around Clare’s shivering shoulders, just as he had done on the plane.
"He will never bother you again, Clare," Dante said softly. "I give you my word as a Salvatore."
Clare looked up at him through her tears. "You... you sent him away."
"He was a threat to you and your daughter," Dante said simply. "I eliminate threats."
He offered his hand to her. "Trastevere is no longer safe for you. Richard’s investigators know this location. Come with me to the Villa Salvatore. You and Maya will be safe there."
May you like
Clare looked down at his broad, calloused hand, then up into his honest, fiercely protective eyes. She knew he was a dangerous man. She knew he ruled an empire built on shadows. But looking at him now, she knew with absolute certainty that he would burn the world down before he let anyone harm her or her child.
She took his hand.
