LOGINThe sky was still dark, but the mansion was already awake with tension. No sunlight touched the windows, no birds dared make a sound, yet the courtyard felt alive with restless movement. Engines rolled in one by one. Men tightened their vests, checked their weapons, and waited for orders they were too afraid to question. No one spoke because the atmosphere around Dante felt dangerous, heavy, and close to breaking. The way he moved, the way he breathed, the way he ignored everything except the path in front of him—any sane man could see he wasn’t preparing for a mission. He was preparing for a sacrifice.Dante stepped out of the house wearing a black suit that fit his body like a glove. Not the suit of a man attending a meeting, but the one he wore when he expected not to return. His gloves were on, his jaw locked, and his eyes held none of the warmth Emilia used to bring out of him. Everything soft inside him had been stripped away. Only purpose remained. Marcello noticed it the momen
The sun hadn’t even broken the horizon, yet the city already felt wrong.Not louder. Not busier.Just tense — like something dangerous was waking up.People in the underworld sensed it first.Doors that were normally open before dawn stayed locked.Men who usually bragged on corners disappeared.Even the air felt sharp, as if it carried a warning.Whispers spread in the shadows:“Dante Voss has lost something. And when he loses, blood follows.”At the abandoned shipping yard, Dante stood over a long metal table with a black map stretched across it. Red marks covered nearly every inch — Valenti warehouses, safehouses, docks, tunnels. He stared at it as if it were a wound that refused to stop bleeding.His men remained behind him in a circle, waiting for instructions. None of them dared speak.Lucia stepped forward first. She always did. “Just say it,” she said quietly. “We’re ready.”Dante didn’t lift his eyes. “We start here.” He tapped one of the red marks. “Then we move east.”Lucia
The sky was still dark when the engines started.The courtyard shook with the growl of black cars lined in rows, headlights cutting through the fog. Soldiers loaded weapons in silence. No one spoke. No one dared to.Dante stood at the front, wearing his black gloves, his jaw set hard. He didn’t look like the man Emilia once knew. The warmth in his eyes was gone — replaced by cold steel.Marcello approached slowly, leaning on his cane. “You don’t have to do this before dawn.”“I’m already late,” Dante said without turning. His voice was quiet but sharp. “Every second she’s with them, she’s in danger.”Marcello sighed. “You don’t even know if she’s alive.”Dante’s eyes flicked up. “That’s why I can’t stop.”He turned toward his men. “Load the trucks. Every bullet, every blade. If it breathes Valenti air, I want it gone.”The men nodded. Orders like this didn’t need repeating.Marcello’s hand tightened on his cane. “And when this ends? When you’ve buried half the city? What will you have
The sky was turning pale when Emilia stepped into the courtyard. Smoke still hung in the air from the night’s fire. The gates were half-broken, the ground covered with ashes and wet mud.Soldiers stood in rows, waiting for orders. Their faces were tired, their eyes dark from sleepless nights. Dante stood in front of them, his coat black, his expression harder than stone.Emilia froze when she saw him.He looked different now—colder, distant, and worn. His shirt was still stained with soot from the fire. Even from far away, she could feel the anger rolling off him.“Burn their supply lines,” Dante ordered, his deep voice echoing through the courtyard. “I want every man ready before sundown. The Valenti name will vanish by dawn.”The soldiers nodded quickly, no one daring to look at him for too long.Emilia took a shaky breath and stepped forward. “Dante…”His head turned slightly, his eyes meeting hers. The courtyard went quiet. Everyone stopped moving, waiting for what would happen ne
The morning air reeked of smoke.Emilia pressed her handkerchief to her nose as the carriage jolted down the narrow street. Outside, the world was a skeleton of itself. Charred beams leaned like broken ribs, smoke still curling from the ashes of what had once been shops and homes. Children clung to their mothers in doorways, their eyes wide and hollow as Dante’s soldiers marched past.Dante rode at the head of the column, astride a black horse that seemed carved from the same darkness as its master. His coat billowed behind him, streaked with soot and blood from the night before. He didn’t glance back at Emilia’s carriage. He didn’t need to. His presence filled every street, every silence.The soldiers dragged men from their homes, rough hands clutching collars and arms, pulling them into the cold morning light. Some were old, stooped by years. Others were hardly more than boys.“These,” Dante said, his voice carrying over the cobblestones, “are the ones who whispered Valenti loyalty
Dawn broke blood-red across the courtyard.The gates loomed high, iron teeth glinting under the rising sun. Torches still smoked from the night, casting streaks of soot across the stone. Soldiers stood in tight ranks, boots heavy on the ground, rifles at their sides. No one spoke. No one dared.Emilia stood above them, on the balcony just outside her chamber. Two guards flanked her, but she hardly noticed them. Her gaze was locked on the scene below.At the center of the courtyard knelt a man. His hands were bound behind his back, his knees pressed into the cold stone. He wore the black jacket of Dante’s guard — a man sworn to loyalty. But his face was pale, drenched in sweat, his eyes darting toward the crowd that surrounded him.“Don’t let them do this,” he begged, his voice carrying thinly across the courtyard. “I’ve served you for years. I’ve killed for you. I’ve bled for this house!”His words shattered the stillness like glass. But no one moved.Dante stepped forward.He was dre


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