From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series Santanico Novels & Stories

Luca’s POV Dawn crept over Lagos Lagoon in bruised purples and golds, the call to prayer drifting across the water like smoke. I stood on the villa’s rooftop terrace barefoot, shirtless watching fishing boats crawl toward the horizon. The city below hummed: horns, generators, life refusing to pause even after the world nearly ended. Inside, Dante slept stitches holding, fever finally broken. Rocco had dozed off beside him, arm slung protectively across Dante’s chest. They looked almost peaceful. Almost normal.

Dante I checked the Glock for the third time tonight, the cold metal felt heavy against my palm. The vitallos estate loomed in the distance, it felt eerie, like it was watching. Rico sat in the driver's seat, the faint glow of the dashboard casting sharp lines on his face. In the back of the van, Luca and four of my men sat quietly, their silence almost deafening in the confined space. “Just a few more minutes, boss. You good?” Luca's voice crackled through the earpiece.

The Castellano command center was a hive of controlled chaos, its concrete walls lined with maps and screens flickering with Syndicate of Ash movements. Kai Castellano stood at a table, his black tactical vest unbuckled, his icy blue eyes tracing a dockside blueprint. The Syndicate’s warning—*“Tomorrow, your empires fall. Docks, dawn”*—loomed, Dante Rossi’s multi-front assault a blade at their throats. Kai’s jaw tightened, the loss of Marco Moretti, Gianna’s defiance of Alessio, and their raw kiss—a collision of anger and need—burning in his mind. Their bond was a fire, but trust was a tightrope.

The Manhattan sunrise painted Elena's office in shades of gold and shadow, but she hadn't slept. Theo's voice echoed through the night, three years of silence broken by desperate need. Her baby brother, begging forgiveness from a sister he'd helped drive away. "Rough night?" Marcus asked, entering with coffee and concern. Their 7 AM meetings had become ritual, planning days that started early and ended late. "Complicated night." Elena accepted the coffee gratefully, her enhanced metabolism burning through caffeine faster than humans. "We have the Morrison Industries presentation at nine?"

Dante’s POV The penthouse was silent. It felt hollow. I sat in my leather armchair in the study, the lights off. The only illumination came from the bank of monitors on the wall. On Screen 1: The Santiago stock was climbing. On Screen 2: Galante Tech was plummeting. On Screen 3: A loop of the news footage. Isabella stepping out of the car. Mateo falling to his knees. The perfect, tragic reunion. I watched it. Over and over again for the last twenty hours.

I go to speak when Dante shakes his head at me. “Let him do this. Hatchet and Deanna were like grandparents to him, too.” He says, and I know he is right. I sit and watch as Dylan and Mischa get to work torturing Paddy and Alonso. Their screams echo around the room, blood dripping to the floor, as well as other things. I don’t look away, not once. “HE IS NOT HERE, HE WILL BE WITH HIS MOTHER!” I look at Alonso and stand as he coughs up blood. I walk towards him.

Lorenzo suddenly whispered. Immediately, Dante entered the code. The timer stopped at 3:31. Lorenzo coughed, and now there was more blood on his lips. His breathing was labored too. "We are brothers," he gasped as he looked into Dante's eyes. "In all the ways that matter... we are brothers." Then his eyes closed, and he went limp immediately. Dante checked his pulse quickly, then he looked up toward the helicopter. Antonio was standing by it, and his gun was pointed directly at me. Sofia was already inside. She had been bound and gagged.

“You'll rot in jail when I'm done with you. I promise to make you suffer!" He didn't look the least bothered by my threats. He took his eyes off my face and they dipped to my chest. Something in the air suddenly shifted. He dragged his eyes back up after successfully making me uncomfortable, showing me that he was actually imagining my breasts underneath my shirt. I breathed hard when he mentioned my name. “Gianna Lucci. I remember you. You're all grown now, a gorgeous woman. Who would've thought.” Then he sank right back in his seat like he was bored, and a gasp escaped me.

My thoughts swirl, disjointed and hazy. “Elijah,” I whisper, the name slipping from my lips like a prayer. The last thing I hear is the sound of a splash and the hiss of a familiar voice. Serena. Her words cut through the darkness. “Drowning in a fountain for a doll? Pathetic.” Then, everything goes black. *****

Although the outer part of the building was white, it was such more darker on the inside as the men led us from room to room corridor to corridors, each become darker and more oppressive than the previous. Finally, we reached a set of heavy double doors. One of the men knocked twice. A pattern I was familiar with as a ritual in each families. The doors swung open, revealing a dimly lit room which had a long table. At the head of the table sat Halo Oscuro, his face hidden in the shadows, just as I expected. “Luca Santoro,” he said, his voice smooth, almost calm. “I've been waiting for you.” Nico was led out of the room by his men before he gestured to the chair opposite him, and I took my sea