Chapter 3 - The Shadow of the CapoDante’s expression didn't show panic. His storm-gray eyes instantly transformed into dark, freezing slits, the warmth from his face evaporating into an absolute, lethal stone.
He set his wine glass down flat on the table with a quiet, deliberate click.
"Dominic Genovese," Dante spoke smoothly, his deep baritone flat and cold. "He thinks because I spared Sal's life in the office today, I'm showing weakness."
"Dominic brought twelve men, Don Dante," Frank added, his jaw tight. "They're claiming Sal was framed by internal accounting. They're demanding to see the financial ledgers that proved Sal stole the three million."
I felt my blood run cold for a fraction of a second, my stomach tightening into a hard knot.
Dominic Genovese was the secondary captain of the South Side crew—a violent, unhinged man who managed illegal gambling dens and enforcement networks.
"They want the accounting ledgers?" I asked softly, sitting up straight in my chair, smoothing my pencil skirt.
Dante turned his head toward me, his hand reaching out to gently cover mine on the table. "You stay here, Emily. Frank and the security detail will take you out through the private service elevator to the Maybach."
"No," I stated flatly.
Dante’s brow furrowed in sudden, sharp surprise. "What?"
I reached into my leather handbag, pulling out my encrypted tablet, unlocking the screen with my thumb, displaying the real-time financial tracking software I had built for Marino Logistics.
"Dominic Genovese isn't here because he thinks Sal was framed, Mr. Marino," I revealed cleanly, my hazel eyes locking onto Dante's with absolute clarity. "Dominic is here because he was the one who authorized the shell company in Delaware. Sal was just the front man. Dominic transferred two million dollars of that stolen money into an offshore account in the Cayman Islands four hours ago."
Dante stared at the digital ledger on my tablet screen, taking in the precise bank routing codes, IP addresses, and digital timestamps I had compiled in twelve minutes.
A dark, terrifying, and white-hot smile spread across Dante's carved features—a look of pure, sovereign authority that made my heart race against my ribs.
"You really are a genius, Emily," Dante whispered, his thumb softly brushing across the back of my hand.
May you like
He stood up from the table, buttoning his dark wool coat, his broad frame casting a long, commanding shadow across the private suite.
"Frank," Dante commanded softly. "Tell Dominic Genovese to come up to the private dining room. He wanted to see the accounting ledgers... let's give him a full presentation."
Related Stories
