Chapter 3 - The Breaching of the TruthVictor Hale realized the trap had collapsed.
He pulled a small silver transmitter from his coat, his face contorting into an arrogant, desperate sneer as he backed out into the hallway.
"You're too late, Donna Elena!" Victor sneered, his finger hovering over the transmitter button. "That neural chip has been transmitting Dante's location, board votes, and corporate logistics directly to the Romano Syndicate for three years! If I press this button, the high-frequency charge will fry his cervical nerve cluster!"
Anna let out a terrified shriek, throwing her body over Sophie on the rug.
THWIP!
Before Victor’s thumb could depress the silver button, a suppressed round fired from the upper library balcony punched cleanly through Victor's right wrist.
"ARGH!" Victor shrieked in agony, dropping the transmitter onto the floorboards.
Stepping off the spiral library staircase, holding a silenced sidearm, was Marco—Dante’s loyal chief of security, who had been quietly investigating the estate's medical records for six months.
Marco kicked the silver transmitter away, slamming Victor flat face-down onto the oriental rug, forcing heavy steel handcuffs around his wrists behind his back.
CLICK. CLICK.
"Don Dante!" Marco reported, his voice sharp as surgical steel. "Dr. Julian Vance has just been detained at JFK Airport trying to board a private jet to Zurich with four million dollars in bearer bonds!"
Dante stood up slowly from the leather sofa. His six-foot-two frame towered over the room, his storm-gray eyes holding a cold, lethal fire that restored his absolute, sovereign power.
He looked down at five-year-old Sophie, who was peeking out from beneath Anna's apron.
Dante dropped flat onto one knee right on the rug before the small girl, reaching out his broad, calloused hand, gently, reverently touching her small shoulder.
"You saved my life, little princess," Dante whispered softly, his baritone thick with deep, genuine gratitude.
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Sophie offered a bright, radiant smile, reaching out her tiny hand to gently pat his cheek. "Does your neck still hurt, mister?"
"It won't hurt much longer, Sophie," Dante promised softly.
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