Chapter 115: One Hundred & Fifteen
Late morning at the Ravenelli mansion courtyard a black car waited in the driveway.
Dante stood by the open door, wearing a dark suit and black gloves. His face was unreadable... calm, sharp, and quiet. Nico stood beside him, his expression tight with focus.
Two guards came out of the basement dragging Sofia between them. Her hair was messy, her makeup smeared, her wrists red from the ropes. She was barefoot, still wearing the same torn dress from the night before.
She tried to twist away, screaming, “Dante, please! Don’t do this to me! We can fix it….please!”
He didn’t even look at her.
“Put her in the car,” he said flatly.
The guards shoved her inside. The car door shut with a heavy sound that echoed through the courtyard. Elena stood by the doorway, watching silently. Her eyes were cold, but there was sadness hidden there too.… the kind that comes when revenge doesn’t heal what was lost.
Dante walked past her and stopped for a second.
“She’ll face what she’s done,” he said quietly.
Elena nodded once, her voice calm but firm. “Make sure she can’t ever hurt anyone again.”
Dante’s eyes softened for a heartbeat. He brushed his thumb over her hand briefly, gently then turned and got into the car.
The engine roared to life.
They drove downtown to the police headquarters. When the car pulled up in front of the central station, a wall of flashing lights greeted them.
Cameras. Reporters. Police. Chaos.
The world had seen the video hours ago. Now every news outlet wanted proof... they wanted the woman behind the scandal that had shaken the underworld.
As soon as the car stopped, the noise exploded.
“There! That’s Dante Virello!”
“Is it true Sofia De Luca confessed?”
“Mr. Virello, are you handing her over yourself?”
Dante stepped out slowly, buttoning his jacket. The crowd surged forward, flashes blinding, microphones pushing close. His expression never changed... just cold composure, like a man walking into battle he’d already won.
Then the back door opened.
Sofia stumbled out, dragged by two officers. Her wrists were cuffed now, her head down. When the flashes hit her face, she screamed and tried to hide behind her hair.
The crowd went wild.
“SOFIA! DID YOU REALLY FAKE YOUR DEATH?”
“WHAT ABOUT ELENA VIRELLO, DID YOU REALLY TRY TO KILL HER?”
“IS IT TRUE YOU KILLED CORVO?”
“ARE YOU WORKING FOR VICTOR LANGSTON?”
She turned to Dante, eyes wide, terrified. “Please! Don’t let them…. ”
He looked at her one last time. “You wanted the world to see you,” he said quietly. “Now they will.”
He turned toward the cameras, his deep voice cutting through the noise like thunder.
“The woman you see before you,” Dante said, “As you all know is Sofia De Luca... the one behind the murder of Lorenzo Carvelli, the kidnapping of my wife Elena Virello, and the lies that destroyed lives and families. Her crimes have been recorded and handed to the police. Justice will be served.”
The crowd exploded again, reporters shouting questions, camera flashes strobing like lightning.
Sofia tried to pull away, crying and screaming, “You can’t do this! I loved you, Dante! I loved you!”
He didn’t answer. He just turned his back on her.
The police dragged her up the steps toward the building as her screams echoed down the street.
“DANTE! DON’T WALK AWAY FROM ME! DANTE!”
But he didn’t turn around.
Not once.
He got back into the car and shut the door. The sound of the chaos outside dulled to a hum as the vehicle pulled away.
Nico looked over from the driver’s seat. “You think she’ll talk more?”
Dante’s eyes were fixed ahead, calm and cold. “She already has. By tomorrow, Victor and the De Lucas will be finished.”
Late Afternoon at the Langston mansion. The news was everywhere.
“SOFIA DE LUCA ARRESTED.”
“THE FAKE EX-WIFE EXPOSED.”
“VIRELLO RETURNS TO CLAIM JUSTICE.”
Reporters swarmed outside the gates of the mansion. Inside, Victor paced the marble floor, his face red with rage. He threw a glass against the wall, the sound shattering through the grand hall.
“You stupid woman!” he roared. “I told you this would happen! I told you she’d destroy us all!”
Sofia’s voice came from the television screen her recorded confession playing again and again. Victor grabbed the remote and threw it, but the image of her tear-streaked face remained in his mind.
Luciano stood near the bar, pale and sweating. “We’re done for,” he muttered. “Everything we built… gone.”
Victor turned on him. “Shut up! Don’t you dare….”
But the words stopped when a new clip appeared on the screen:
Dante, standing in front of the cameras, looking straight into them with his cold gray eyes.
“This is only the beginning,” Dante had said. “For years, lies ruled this city. Now, truth will take everything back.”
Victor froze, the color draining from his face.
He whispered, “He’s coming for me.”
The sun was setting, painting the world gold and red. Elena stood on the balcony, watching the city glow in the distance. She heard footsteps behind her... soft, familiar.
Dante came up beside her, slipping his hand into hers.
“It’s done,” he said quietly.
She looked at him, eyes deep and tired. “Do you feel better?”
He was silent for a long time, then said, “No. But it’s necessary. I'm not satisfied yet.”
Elena nodded, resting her head against his shoulder. “Then finish it,” she whispered. “For all of us.”
He turned his head slightly, kissed her hair, and whispered, “I will.”