The Mafia Boss Abandoned a Million-Dollar War When His Secretary Whispered, “Come Get Me” — But the Real Betrayal Was Waiting Beside Him.

PART 6

Dante’s penthouse occupied the upper two floors of a glass tower overlooking downtown Ironport.

Priya had expected the home of a crime lord to be vulgar. Instead, she entered a fortress decorated like an expensive waiting room. Dark leather furniture sat on polished concrete floors. Steel shelves held almost nothing. There were no family photographs, paintings, or personal objects.

“It’s very…” She searched for a polite word.

“Empty?” Dante suggested.

“Secure.”

“That is not what you meant.”

Silas remained near the elevator. Dante turned to him. “Call Marcus and Everett Voss. Lock down the docks, Fifth Street, and the office. Put men in Priya’s building before sunrise.”

Silas nodded. “We should move on Marchetti tonight.”

“No.”

“They crossed a line.”

“They wanted an emotional response.” Dante glanced at Priya. “They got one.”

Dante’s eyes became cold. “Do what I said.”

For a moment, Silas seemed ready to argue. Then he lowered his head. “Yes, boss.”

The elevator doors closed behind him.

Priya and Dante were alone. The silence expanded.

“The guest room is down the hall,” he said. “First door on the right. There are towels in the cabinet.”

“Thank you.”

She removed her wet shoes and walked away. At the hallway entrance, she looked back. Dante remained where she had left him. Blood fell slowly from his knuckles to the floor.

She should have gone into the guest room. Instead, she remembered his voice through the phone. *Keep listening to me.*

She returned to him.

“Kitchen,” she said.

“What?”

“Your hands need cleaning.”

“They’re fine.”

“So was the warehouse inspection report you ignored last month.”

Dante followed her.

Warm water carried diluted blood into the drain. She found antiseptic and gauze, arranged with the precision of someone who rarely used either.

“Does it hurt?” she asked.

“No.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“I’m considered very good.”

“Not by me.”

Dante looked down at her bowed head. “You shouldn’t have been there tonight.”

“I know.”

“I don’t mean the club. I mean in my world.”

Her hands stopped. “You hired me.”

“I should not have.”

“That is an interesting thing to say after three years of excellent performance reviews.”

“I put you near men who believed hurting you would hurt me.”

Priya lifted her eyes. “Would it?”

The room seemed to contract around them.

Dante stepped closer. “There is no version of this city I would not destroy to get you back.”

Her breath caught. “That isn’t an answer.”

“It is the only one I have.”

He lifted one injured hand and touched her chin. His thumb brushed a streak of mascara from her cheek.

“You should have called me the moment he touched your wrist.”

“I wasn’t certain.”

“You do not need certainty.”

“I thought I could handle it.”

“You handle everything.” His voice roughened. “That does not mean you have to handle everything alone.”

Priya stared at him.

“You risked a war,” she whispered.

“There is no empire without you.”

The sentence landed between them. Dante seemed almost surprised that he had said it aloud.

He stepped back first. “Shower. Lock the door. Try to sleep.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Make sure no one reaches this building.”

“You need rest too.”

“I’ll rest when I know who gave Everett your information.”

Priya remembered the ease with which Everett had spoken about her neighborhood. A new fear entered her.

“Someone inside the organization?”

Dante did not answer. That was answer enough.