Chapter 4 - The midnight storm
The atmosphere in the penthouse shifted from quiet tension to suffocating danger in a matter of seconds. Dante moved past the piano, his imposing presence dominating the room. He grabbed Tony by the shoulder, hauling him to his feet without unnecessary violence but with absolute, terrifying authority.
"Explain," Dante commanded, his voice a low, terrifying rumble over the crashing thunder outside.
Tony coughed, his eyes darting nervously toward Emma, who was still shielding Sophia under the piano. "The high commission found the old medical records. They know Elena wasn't pregnant when she married you. They know Sophia isn't your biological daughter, Dante. They are demanding you hand the child over to the ruling family to serve as a ward. If you refuse, they will strip you of your territory."
Emma clamped her hand over her mouth. Sophia wasn't his daughter?
Dante’s face became a mask of absolute, chilling calm. "Sophia is a Russo. She stays with me."
"They sent a retrieval team, Dante," Tony pleaded, wiping sweat from his forehead. "They are in the elevator. You have to give them the kid."
Dante didn't answer. He released Tony and walked swiftly to the grand mahogany desk in the living room, pressing a hidden button underneath. Heavy steel blast shutters instantly slammed down over the floor-to-ceiling windows, sealing the penthouse in absolute darkness before the emergency backup lights flickered on, casting a dim, golden glow over the room.
"Emma," Dante said, turning to her. "Take Sophia to the safe room behind my study. Do not come out until I open the door."
Emma didn't hesitate. She scrambled out from under the piano, scooping the terrified five-year-old into her arms. She ran down the hallway, her heart pounding wildly against her ribs. She pushed into Dante’s study, finding the hidden panel he had instructed her about earlier that week. The heavy steel door slid open, and she hurried inside, sealing the room behind them.
The safe room was small, lined with survival gear and a bank of security monitors. Emma set Sophia down on a cot, handing her the stuffed bunny. She turned to the monitors, watching the live feed of the living room.
The elevator doors chimed open. Five men in dark suits stepped out, completely unarmed but radiating the same lethal composure as Dante. They were the commission’s enforcers. Dante stood in the center of the living room, his tailored suit immaculate, entirely unafraid.
But as Emma watched the screen, her eyes caught something horrifying. Tony, the nervous, loyal restaurant manager, had positioned himself behind Dante. Slowly, deliberately, Tony reached into his jacket and pulled out a suppressed weapon, aiming it directly at Dante’s back.
Tony wasn't warning Dante. Tony had brought the enforcers up.
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Emma screamed, slamming her fist against the intercom button on the security console. "Dante! Behind you!"
Dante moved with blinding, inhuman speed. He dropped low, sweeping his leg out and knocking Tony to the ground just as the suppressed shot shattered a crystal vase on the table. In a matter of seconds, Dante disarmed the manager, pinning him to the floor with a restrained, crushing grip, his dark eyes blazing with betrayal as he stared down the five enforcers. The real war had just begun.
