Chapter 8 - The Fall of Dante
The heavy, chaotic sound of automatic gunfire erupted from the front of the estate exactly two minutes later.
Marcus and his elite team of loyalists breached the main doors with ruthless, overwhelming, and highly coordinated violence.
The celebratory atmosphere upstairs instantly devolved into absolute, screaming panic as Dante’s men realized they were under attack.
"Stay here, lock this door, and do not let anyone inside," Lorenzo ordered Hannah, checking the magazine of his pistol.
"Where are you going?" Hannah panicked, reaching out to grab his sleeve, terrified of losing him again.
"I am going to personally execute the man who tried to put me in a freezing grave," Lorenzo stated, his eyes burning with absolute murder.
He didn't wait for her response, slipping out into the hallway and heading directly toward the grand library.
Hannah locked the heavy steel door of the security hub, her heart pounding frantically against her ribs as she listened to the war raging outside.
She stared at the blank security monitors, feeling incredibly useless while the man she had saved was fighting for his life.
She remembered what Lorenzo had said about Dante hiding his ledgers, the physical proof of his treacherous alliances.
If Lorenzo killed Dante, the other crime families might retaliate, claiming it was an unjustified assassination.
But if they possessed Dante’s ledgers, proving he colluded with the Russians to order the hit, the other families would stand down immediately.
Hannah unlocked the door and stepped out into the chaotic hallway, completely ignoring Lorenzo’s strict orders to stay hidden.
She knew exactly where Dante kept his personal safe; she had dusted around the hidden panel in his private study a hundred times.
She moved quickly through the service corridors, avoiding the main halls where the heavy gunfire was concentrated.
She slipped into Dante’s lavish, dark-wood study on the second floor, locking the door securely behind her.
She walked over to the massive bookshelf, pulled a specific, fake leather-bound book, and revealed the sleek digital safe hidden behind it.
The keypad required a six-digit code.
Hannah racked her brain, trying to remember the dates and numbers Dante frequently mumbled when he was drunk.
She punched in his mother’s birthday, holding her breath as the red light flashed, indicating an incorrect code.
She had two attempts left before the safe initiated a permanent lockdown.
Suddenly, she remembered the date Dante had officially been promoted to underboss, a day he bragged about endlessly to anyone who would listen.
She typed the six numbers with trembling fingers.
The light turned green, and the heavy metal door clicked open with a satisfying, quiet hiss.
Inside sat a thick, black leather ledger and several stacks of banded, hundred-dollar bills.
She grabbed the ledger, shoving it down the front of her tactical jacket, ignoring the money completely.
As she turned to leave, the door to the study was violently kicked open.
Dante stood in the doorway, his expensive suit covered in blood, holding a high-powered tactical rifle.
He was fleeing the slaughter downstairs, desperately seeking refuge in his private sanctuary.
He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the maid standing by his open safe.
"You," Dante spat, his face twisting into a mask of pure, unadulterated, vicious hatred.
"You are the fat little rat who helped him escape the medical wing."
He raised his rifle, aiming it directly at Hannah’s chest, completely devoid of any human mercy.
"You are going to die right here, completely alone, and nobody is ever going to care," Dante sneered maliciously.
Before he could pull the trigger, a dark, massive shadow stepped silently into the doorway behind him.
"You always did talk too much, Dante," Lorenzo’s deep, terrifying voice echoed through the room.
Dante didn't even have time to turn around.
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Lorenzo raised his pistol and fired a single, flawless shot directly into the back of Dante’s skull.
The traitor collapsed heavily onto the expensive Persian rug, completely dead before his face hit the floor.
