Dante didn't come alone. He arrived three days later with Emilio, his father, and a two-man security detail, which was laughable protection in Giordano territory. He was traveling light, desperate, and dangerous.I met him in the high-stakes private room of the Casino de Monte-Carlo, not my suite. Public places were safer, and I liked the visual: me, playing Baccarat, surrounded by my own power, while he stood fuming like a common Soldato."You've been expecting me," he said, his eyes burning with fury, but his voice was carefully modulated."I always expect my debts to be paid, Dante," I replied, placing a winning chip. "Sit down. Have a drink. You look stressed.""We need the antiques back," Emilio cut in, his face drawn. "The Falcones are using them as a declaration of war. We are hemorrhaging cash and losing territory in New York. We'll be wiped out in a month.""The Falcones didn't take your antiques," I revealed, the truth slicing the tension in the room. "The Giordano famiglia d
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