15: The Judas Kiss

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

POV: Julian Vane

The day before the Cathedral meeting, the air in the estate felt heavy, charged with the static of an impending storm. The Jimenez brothers were bunkered down in a high-end hotel downtown, and Dante was in the armory with Marco, finalizing the tactical sweep of the church.

I was in the library, the "Blood Audit" files spread across the desk like the bones of a dead giant. My job was to ensure the digital transfer of the docks was ready, a legal Trojan horse that would strip the Jimenez family of their assets the moment the deal was "signed."

A soft chime from my laptop broke the silence. An encrypted file had bypassed the Moretti firewall. My heart skipped a beat. Only one person had the backdoor codes to my private server.

Leo.

I hesitated, my finger hovering over the trackpad. Leo was a traitor. He had sold me. He had been shot by my own hand. But he was my blood.

I clicked.

A video file opened. It was grainy, shot in a dark room that looked like a medical clinic. Leo was there, his shoulder heavily bandaged, his face pale and gaunt. But it was the person standing behind him that made the blood freeze in my veins.

Marcus.

He was supposed to be dead. Dante had said he dealt with him at the airfield. But there he was, his eyes burning with a manic, vengeful light.

"Hello, little brother," Marcus’s voice crackled through the speakers. "I hope you’re enjoying your new life as the Butcher’s pet. Did he give you a nice collar? Does he let you sleep at the foot of the bed?"

He stepped closer to the camera, his face filling the screen. "You think Saturday is a deal. You think you’re taking the Jimenez hardware. But you’re wrong. I’ve made a deal of my own with Mateo. He doesn't want the docks, Julian. He wants the Moretti territory. All of it."

Marcus leaned in, his voice a low hiss. "The Cathedral isn't a meeting place. It’s a tomb. Under the altar, there are six crates of C4, wired to the signal jammers the Jimenez brothers are bringing. The moment Dante 'tests' the equipment, the jammers will trigger the detonators. The Cathedral will be a pile of rubble, and you and your Butcher will be ash inside it."

Leo looked at the camera, tears welling in his eyes. "Julian... run. Please. Just run."

The screen went black.

I sat in the silence, the cold realization washing over me. This wasn't a heist. This was a suicide mission. The Jimenez brothers were willing to sacrifice their own men just to take Dante out of the equation.

I stood up, my chair clattering to the floor. I had to find Dante. I had to stop the meeting.

I ran toward the armory, my boots echoing through the marble hallways. I burst through the doors, breathless. Dante was standing by a table covered in submachine guns, his back to me.

"Dante!" I gasped.

He turned, his eyes narrowing as he saw the state of me. "Julian? What is it?"

"It’s a trap," I said, moving toward him. I grabbed his arms, my hands shaking. "Marcus is alive. He’s with the Jimenez brothers. They’ve rigged the Cathedral with explosives. The signal jammers they’re the detonators. If you go there tomorrow, you’re dead."

Dante didn't move. He didn't look shocked. He didn't even blink. He just looked at me with a terrifying, calm intensity.

"I know," he said quietly.

I stepped back, my hands dropping. "You... you know?"

"Marco’s scouts found the wiring in the crypt three hours ago," Dante said, stepping into my space. He reached out and cupped my face, his thumbs stroking my cheeks. "I was going to tell you tonight, Julian. I didn't want you to panic."

"Panic? Dante, we have to cancel! We can't go near that place!"

"No," Dante said, his voice dropping into a low, lethal growl. "We’re going. But we aren't going to play their game. We’re going to rewrite it."

He pulled me closer, his forehead resting against mine. "The Cathedral has an old tunnel system a 'Judas Gate' that leads from the rectory to the bell tower. While the Jimenez brothers think we’re walking into their trap at the altar, Marco and the elite squad will be coming down from the rafters."

"And the explosives?" I asked, my heart still racing.

"The jammers won't work," Dante said, a dark smirk tugging at his lips. "Because we’ve already replaced the Jimenez hardware with our own. When Mateo tries to flip that switch, the only thing that’s going to blow up is his own hubris."

I looked at him, the fear slowly being replaced by a fierce, dark pride. He was always three steps ahead. He was the Butcher for a reason.

"But Marcus," I said. "He’s there, Dante. He’s alive."

"I know," Dante whispered. "And tomorrow, Julian, you’re going to be the one to finish what he started. I’m going to give you the detonator to the real explosives the ones we’ve placed under the Jimenez sedans."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, black remote. He placed it in my hand, his fingers closing over mine.

"You’re a Moretti now," he said. "And a Moretti doesn't run from a trap. We turn the trap into a throne."

I looked at the remote, then back at Dante. The slow-burn romance, the years of pain, the betrayal it all led to this.

"I want to see his face," I said. "When he realizes I’m the one who did it."

"You will," Dante promised. He leaned in and kissed me a deep, soul-consuming vow of violence. "Tomorrow, the city learns that the Prince doesn't need saving. He needs a kingdom."