The rain in Milan was a cold, needles-sharp drizzle that blurred the neon lights of the city. Dante steered the black armored sedan through the winding streets toward the Cavallo estate, a sprawling neo-classical fortress that sat like a crown on the edge of the city.
Beside him, Sienna was a vision of lethal elegance. She wore a floor-length gown of midnight black lace that clung to every curve, backless and daring. Around her neck sat a diamond choker that felt more like a collar.
Dante reached over, his hand resting heavy on her thigh, his thumb grazing the silk fabric. "You okay? Your heart is beating so hard I can practically hear it."
Sienna stared out the window at the approaching gates. "It's not fear, Dante. It's the adrenaline. I haven't been back here since the night you took me. It feels like a lifetime ago."
"It was a lifetime ago," Dante muttered, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. "The girl who lived in that house is dead. You're a Moretti now. Remember that. If anyone looks at you too long, if anyone touches you... you let me handle it."
"Possessive, even in a war zone," she whispered, a small, dark smile playing on her lips.
"Always."
They pulled up to the gates. Two guards in sleek suits approached, their hands hovering near their waistbands. Sienna rolled down the window, her face shifting instantly into a mask of cold, aristocratic boredom.
"Do you recognize me, or have you forgotten who signs your checks?" she asked, her voice dripping with venom.
The guard's eyes went wide. "Donna Sienna? We... we heard you were"
"I was recovering from a tragic 'accident,'" she lied smoothly, gesturing to Dante. "This is my private security and escort. Open the gates. Now."
The guards hesitated for a split second before the heavy iron gates groaned open. As they drove up the long, lit driveway, Dante checked the suppressed Glock tucked into the small of his back.
"Nice acting," he said.
"It wasn't acting," she replied. "That's how I had to survive for twenty years."
Inside the ballroom, the air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume, aged brandy, and the underlying rot of corruption. Men in five-thousand-dollar tuxedos shook hands while discussing body counts. Dante kept his hand firmly on the small of Sienna's back, guiding her through the crowd. He felt the eyes of every man in the room on them.
"Look at them," Dante hissed in her ear. "They're vultures. They see your father's grip slipping, and they're waiting to pick the bones."
"Sienna!"
The voice was like a whip. They turned to see Lorenzo Cavallo standing at the top of the marble staircase. He looked older, his face etched with a fury he was trying to hide behind a public mask. He descended the stairs, his eyes locked on Dante.
"You have a lot of nerve showing your face here, Moretti," Lorenzo growled as he reached them. He looked at his daughter, his eyes landing on the ring on her finger. His face turned a dangerous shade of purple. "And you... what is that trash on your hand?"
Sienna didn't flinch. She stepped closer to Dante, her shoulder brushing his chest. "It's a symbol of my new loyalty, Father. Dante saved me from the 'accident' your men failed to prevent."
Lorenzo's hand twitched, likely wanting to strike her, but Dante stepped forward, his massive frame shielding her.
"Don't even think about it, Lorenzo," Dante said, his voice a lethal promise. "We're here to celebrate your anniversary. Let's not make a scene in front of the Commission members, shall we?"
Lorenzo leaned in, his voice a low hiss. "I don't know what kind of spell you've put on her, but you won't leave this house alive tonight."
"I've heard that before," Dante replied with a smirk. "Usually from men I've already buried."
Sienna touched her father's arm, her touch cold. "I need to go to my old rooms to fix my makeup. Dante will accompany me. Unless you want me looking like a mess in front of the guests?"
Lorenzo looked between them, his suspicion warring with his pride. "Go. But my men will be at the end of the hall. If you so much as sneeze in the wrong direction, Moretti, you're dead."
As they walked away, Dante felt the weight of a dozen guns on his back. They navigated the hallways, moving deeper into the private wing of the mansion. Once they were behind the heavy mahogany doors of Sienna's suite, Dante moved like a blur.
"The study is through the connecting door," Sienna whispered, her breath coming in short gasps. "The biometric scanner is on the bookshelf."
Dante grabbed her waist, pulling her back against him for a brief, hard second. "Stay behind me. If this goes south, I want you to run for the balcony. Marco is waiting in the gardens."
"I'm not leaving you," she said, her hands gripping his forearms.
"Fuck, you're stubborn," he muttered, but he kissed her hard a taste of desperation and fire before turning toward the study door.
Sienna placed her hand on the scanner. A soft *beep* echoed, and the door clicked open. The room was dark, smelling of tobacco and old secrets. Dante headed straight for the desk, his flashlight cutting through the gloom.
"There," Sienna pointed. "The red ledger."
Dante grabbed it, flipping through the pages. His eyes widened as he saw the entries dates, names of girls, prices, and the coordinates for the Adriatic ports. It was all there. The proof that Lorenzo Cavallo was a monster even by mafia standards.
"I've got it," Dante said, tucking the book into his jacket. "Let's get out of"
The lights in the study flickered on.
Lorenzo stood in the doorway, a suppressed pistol in his hand. He wasn't alone. Four guards stood behind him, their weapons leveled at Dante's chest.
"I knew you couldn't resist a peek at my books," Lorenzo said, a sickening smile on his face. "My daughter has always been a terrible liar. Did you really think I'd let you just walk in here?"
Dante pushed Sienna behind him, his hand reaching for his own weapon. "It's over, Lorenzo. This book goes to the Commission. You're a dead man walking."
"Maybe," Lorenzo shrugged. "But you'll be dead long before I am. Guards, take him. And bring my daughter to me. She needs to learn what happens to traitors."
Dante looked at Sienna, his eyes burning with a possessive, protective fury. "Over my dead body."
"That can be arranged," Lorenzo sneered.
The room exploded into movement. Dante tackled Sienna to the floor as the first shots rang out, the silence of the gala shattered by the beginning of the end.