Chapter 8 - THE BOUNTY
The silence in the ruined bar was deafening, broken only by the distant wail of police sirens.
Ten million dollars.
I was a bartender who lived in a fourth-floor walk-up. I couldn't even afford a security system. Now, every contract killer on the East Coast would be looking for my face.
“Take it back,” Dante snarled, grabbing Silas by the lapels of his suit, ignoring the FBI agents who shouted at him to step back. “Call it off, Silas. Now.”
Silas just smiled, a bloody, satisfied grin. “I can't. It’s an open contract funded by the offshore accounts. Once it’s out, it’s out. She’s a dead woman walking, Dante. And it’s your fault.”
Dante threw Silas backward into the arms of the agents. He ran his hands through his dark hair, pacing like a caged animal.
“We’ll put her in maximum security protective custody,” Miller said, though he didn't sound convincing. “We can hide her.”
“You can't hide her from ten million dollars!” Dante roared. “Someone inside your own agency would sell her out for a fraction of that!”
He turned to me. I was shaking, gripping the edge of the mahogany bar to keep from collapsing.
Dante crossed the room and took my hands in his. His grip was warm, anchoring me to reality.
“Elena, look at me,” he said, his voice dropping to that soft, commanding tone that had saved my life in the apartment.
I looked up, tears finally spilling over my lashes. “I’m going to die, Dante. Because of a locker ticket I didn't even know I had.”
“No. You are not going to die,” Dante swore, his gray eyes burning with fierce determination. “I promised you I would keep you alive. And I never break a promise to my family.”
Dante turned back to Miller.
“The bounty was funded by the Rossi offshore accounts, correct?”
“Yes,” Miller confirmed. “Silas authorized the transfer.”
“But the accounts are still legally in my name,” Dante said, his voice eerily calm. “If I surrender all my assets to the federal government right now—if I sign over the entire Rossi empire, the properties, the shipping lanes, and the offshore accounts—the DOJ can freeze the funds. The bounty goes unfunded. The contract becomes void.”
Miller stared at him in shock. “Dante, you’re talking about billions of dollars. If you sign that over, you are left with absolutely nothing. You’ll be a civilian. The Commission will strip you of your title. You won't have any protection.”
Answer One. Dante could save my life, but it would cost him his entire empire and his immunity in the underworld.
“Do it,” Dante said without a second of hesitation.
“Dante, no,” I gasped, grabbing his arm. “If you have no protection, Falcone will kill you!”
Dante reached up and gently cupped my face. He wiped a tear from my cheek with his thumb.
“Falcone doesn't care about me if I don't have power,” he said softly. “And I don't care about power if I don't have you.”
Reversal. The ruthless Mafia Boss was entirely willing to destroy his own legacy, not for power, but for love.
Miller pulled a thick stack of documents from his tactical briefcase. “I brought the asset forfeiture papers, hoping you’d sign them eventually. But you’re sure about this?”
Dante didn't answer. He took the pen from Miller and signed his name on the dotted line.
With a stroke of ink, the Rossi Crime Syndicate ceased to exist.
“The funds are frozen,” Miller said, checking his encrypted tablet a moment later. “The contract is void. The hitmen won't move without guaranteed payment.”
I let out a sob of pure relief, throwing my arms around Dante’s neck. He caught me, holding me tightly against his chest, burying his face in my hair.
“It’s over,” he whispered against my ear. “We’re free.”
As the FBI led Silas away, Silas stopped at the door, looking back at Dante with pure venom.
“You think you can just walk away and live a normal life?” Silas spat. “Men like us don't get happy endings, Dante.”
May you like
Dante didn't even look at him. He kept his arms wrapped around me.
“Watch me.”
