Chapter 12: Inside the Enemy

As Dante fixed his gaze on the television, Giovanni's mocking facial stopped midway-smirk, the room hummed with expectation. The hush was thick, full of the collective breath of people surrounding him. Elena stood close, eyes fixed on the phone, her hand hanging over his arm as though she could sense the tempest building inside him.

Marco moved gingerly, his boots creaking to disrupt the quiet. "Boss, we are ready when you get here.

Dante tapped the tablet and his jaw tightened, muscles coiling. The movie came alive, the sound in the stark room tinny but clear. Giovanni sank back in a high-backed chair, the elaborate décor behind him a sharp contrast to the blood and dust still clinging to Dante's skin.

"Moretti," Giovanni's voice was almost bored, slick. I will say you have always been a man of resilience. Resilience without foresight, however? Well, that is simply an endurance game, not anything else. And games, friend, feature winners and losers.

He stopped, wicked pleasure blazing