Chapter 8 - The Price of Loyalty
The Santoro stronghold was an abandoned meatpacking facility on the industrial outskirts of Gary, Indiana.
The air was foul with the stench of rust, stale blood, and chemical rot. Sienna was dragged across the concrete floor, her wrists bound in zip-ties, and thrown into a chair under a single, flickering fluorescent bulb.
In the corner, tied to a wooden chair, sat her father. Arthur Moretti looked disoriented, his gray hair wild, a bruise blossoming across his temple.
“Dad!” Sienna struggled against her bonds.
“Sienna?” the old man mumbled, squinting through the glare. “Where... where are we? Are we at the restaurant?”
“He doesn't even know what year it is, Marco!” Sienna spat, turning her glare upon Marco Santoro, who stood a few feet away holding an iron crowbar. “He’s a sick old man! Let him go!”
“He’s the leash around Dante Valente’s neck,” Marco laughed, running a greasy hand through his hair. He looked unhinged, dark circles hollowing his eyes. “Dante ruined my family’s docks this morning. He killed my cousin. But when he finds out I have you... he will walk in here alone, drop his weapons, and let me put a bullet through his skull.”
“He won’t come,” Sienna lied, desperate to save both men. “He doesn't care about me. It was all a show! A fake engagement to distract you while he mobilized his men!”
Marco’s smile vanished. He stepped forward, raising his hand, and struck Sienna across the face with the back of his hand.
The force of the blow snapped her head sideways, the metallic taste of copper bursting in her mouth.
“Don’t lie to me!” Marco roared. “I saw the way he looked at you at the gala! I saw the bodies he left behind on Lake Shore Drive! He loves you, you stupid South Side bitch, and that love is going to bury him!”
Meanwhile, fifty miles away in Lake Forest, Dante stood in the center of Sienna’s empty room.
He held the note in his left hand, the emerald ring crushed so tightly in his right fist that the metal bit into his skin, drawing blood.
Leo burst into the room, out of breath. “Boss, we traced the delivery van. It crossed the state line into Gary twenty minutes ago. Don Salvatore says he doesn’t know where Marco took her—the kid went rogue.”
Dante slowly lifted his head.
The eyes that met Leo’s were no longer human. They were the eyes of an ancient, merciless apex predator that had decided the world must burn.
“Assemble everyone,” Dante said. His voice was terrifyingly calm, devoid of all inflection.
“How many men, boss?”
May you like
“All of them,” Dante replied, sliding the emerald ring onto his pinky finger. “Bring the heavy artillery. Bring the fire. If a single hair on her head is damaged, I will burn Gary to the ground and salt the earth so nothing ever grows there again.”
***
