Six

Kaela pushed the scrambled eggs around her plate with her fork, trying not to glance at her companion. The companion was none other than Dante, and keeping her eyes off him was harder than it should be.

The tension in the air was thick, heavy with unsaid words. Across from her, Dante sipped his coffee, his expression unreadable. His usual control had returned, the cracks from yesterday night sealed tightly.

Speaking of yesterday night, she wished she could wipe the memory away, because it kept replaying over and over even as she had tried to sleep. It kept her turning and tossing, unable to find rest because of her racing mind.

Now she felt a pull from him even though he was on the other side of the table. She glanced at him through narrowed eyes. For a man who prided himself in his ruthlessness, he had seemed almost human, even vulnerable.

Kaela hated the way her heart had betrayed her. She hated—truly hated—that even now, her lips tingled at the memory. She clenched her fork tighter, her defiance flaring up. She should have just stayed up in her room, or even better, run away at the first glimpse of his shadow. But no, she had stayed.

Dante set his coffee down, and feeling her eyes on him, he glanced at her. His jaw tightened when their eyes met. She turned away instantly, and his frown deepened.

He wasn't proud of what had happened. He had let his emotions—no, his desires—get the better of him. That kiss had been a mistake, a lapse in judgment, all because he had been loose and drunk too much. And now Kaela looked at him as if she had seen something he never wanted her to see.

"You'll be here alone today," he said abruptly, breaking the silence.

Kaela was surprised and also relieved that he had finally said something. She wasn't looking forward to being the first to speak. But of course, she wouldn't let him know that.

"And why do I need to know that?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Because I don't want you wandering where you shouldn't," he said. His tone was dismissive, but it got her terribly curious.

'Where she shouldn't wander' involved which places exactly, and what would she find there if she decided to go?

She toyed with the idea in her mind. Going around the mansion would be nice, especially if he was going to be away. She would make sure that he wouldn't catch her.

"Right," she replied, "because I'm such a threat in a big mansion like this."

Dante's lips curved in a smirk, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Good to know that you are self-aware. If you're getting curious, ask the maids what happens when they do what they're not supposed to. Trust me, it's not a pretty story."

His words made Kaela pause. Yesterday, the maid had said something in fear, and today he was just confirming it. He actually was a dangerous man—it wasn't just a front he was putting up, and she would need to be careful with him.

He set his spoon down and rose, pulling on the jacket draped over the chair. "Don't push me today, Kaela."

Her heart pounded as he leaned closer. For a split second, she felt like he was going to kiss her again, and suddenly her body was frozen. To think that she was the same person who, some moments ago, had the thought of pushing him away last night, and yet here she was, waiting in anticipation.

However, nothing of the sort happened. He just stared at her, his dark eyes flickering with something she couldn't place. He didn't say another word though and straightened, the faint brush of his hand against her shoulder sending a shiver down her spine.

When the door clicked shut behind him, Kaela let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding. She really wished he would just release her so that she would be free of these emotions that she couldn't even make sense of.

——

Dante strolled into the dimly lit meeting room of the casino. Seated around the round table were three of his closest associates: Marco, his right-hand man who was very efficient in carrying out his bidding; Vito, who handled Dante's deals; and Luca, one of his lieutenants.

They rose when he entered, the conversation ceasing immediately. Dante nodded for them to sit, taking his place at the head of the table. He pushed matters of Kaela to the back of his mind—it was time to face business.

The fallout with Petrova's men definitely left an effect on him and his businesses. Curse whoever had tipped them off to him, giving him the opening he needed.

As it turned out, simultaneously as they were dealing with Petrova's men, Petrova was out there destroying one of his properties. They had only found out the next day, and in fury and at a loss for words, Dante had buried himself in drinks.

"The aftermath," he said without preamble. "I want every detail."

Marco spoke first, sliding a report across the table. "The warehouse on 57th took the worst of it. We lost five men. Petrova's attack wasn't a random show of power—he was testing our defenses, seeing how far he could push."

"Do we have confirmation it was Petrova?" Dante asked, his voice sharp. It was possible that it was another of their enemies who took advantage of Petrova's attack.

That was a slim chance though, with the timing and everything—it definitely had to be related.

"Without a doubt." Vito leaned forward, his scarred hands resting on the table. "One of his lieutenants, Gregor Balenko, led the attack. We've got men saying they saw him directing the ambush. He got away before we could take him down."

Dante's jaw tightened. Balenko had been a thorn in his side for years, a shadow that followed Petrova's orders to the letter. Worst of all was that he proved evasive every time they tried to catch him and teach him a lesson or two.

Petrova sure was smart though, sacrificing his men to be murdered by Dante's while handing Balenko another group to lead the attack. "And the club?"

"Minimal damage," Marco replied. "It seems he hadn't attacked with the intention of taking down the club completely, even though he could have eliminated all the people left to defend it at that point. It was about sending a message. He's escalating."

Vito nodded grimly. "He's not just escalating. Word on the street is he's making alliances. Smaller families, some rogue arms dealers. He's trying to outgun us."

Dante leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. His mind was racing. He had always maintained dominance through fear and precise strikes, but Petrova was pushing him into unfamiliar territory. If the man was aligning with outside forces, it could shift the balance of power.

Basically, all the mafia families in this region were under him. They literally worshipped him, and yet it seemed Petrova had found another way to buy them over. What could it be that he was offering them? He wondered.

"And what about our men?" he asked, glancing at Luca.

Luca hesitated. "There's talk, boss. Some of the guys are worried. They think we're spread too thin. There's... a sense of doubt."

Spread too thin? They were more than most people were even aware about. Dante's gaze darkened, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees.

"Doubt leads to betrayal. Find out where it's coming from and deal with it."

Luca swallowed and nodded quickly. Dante's orders were not to be questioned, and he would make sure to carry it out immediately after he stepped out of here. "Yes, boss."

Marco cleared his throat. "There's something else. Petrova sent a message this morning. A package." He slid a black box across the table. "He left it with a bartender at one of our clubhouses."

Dante glared at it, having a good mind not to even see what was in it. But he knew that would be a mistake, so he reached forward and opened it carefully.

Inside was a single bullet, engraved with his initials. Beneath it, a note: "Your empire is crumbling. Let me finish it for you."

The room was silent as Dante stared at the bullet. His anger simmered, cold and calculated. "Petrova wants a war," he said quietly. "So let's give him one."

No one got to tease him like this and get away with it. Petrova thought he had the upper hand because of some silly information he had, but he didn't even know what his Empire involved. All he had was the bare minimum, and he would make sure to keep it that way.

The others nodded, but Marco leaned in. "We need to be smart about this, Dante. If Petrova is building alliances, we need to do the same. There's strength in numbers."

Dante shook his head. "Alliances mean weakness. Petrova can play that game, but we don't need anyone else to win this. We'll hit him where it hurts most—his operations, his money."

Vito smirked. "You're thinking about the docks?"

Dante nodded. "We know his shipments are coming through there. Cut them off. If he can't fund his men, his alliances will crumble."

The men exchanged looks, their confidence in Dante's plan palpable. But beneath the surface, Dante knew this fight would test every part of his empire—and every part of him.