Chapter 84: Marco's Gambit *Dante's POV*

\# Chapter 84 – Marco's Gambit

Dante's POV

The first bomb went off at three in the morning.

I was awake when my phone rang. I'm always awake these days. Sleep is a luxury I can't afford when Marco Santini is breathing down my neck.

"Boss," Rico's voice was tight with panic. "We got a problem. Big problem."

"Talk."

"Councilman Torres is dead. His house is gone. Blown to pieces."

I sat up in bed. Eve stirred beside me but didn't wake. "When?"

"Twenty minutes ago. But that's not all. We got reports coming in from all five territories. More explosions. More bodies."

My blood turned to ice. "How many?"

"Six so far. All council members. All the ones who might have voted with us."

I was already getting dressed. "I'm on my way."

"Dante, there's more. We found something at each scene."

"What?"

"Santini calling cards. He wants us to know it was him."

I hung up and looked at Eve. She was still sleeping. Her face was peaceful. She had no idea our world was burning down around us.

I kissed her forehead and left.

The drive to Torres's house took fifteen minutes. What used to be his house, anyway. Now it was just a crater in the ground. Fire trucks and cops were everywhere. But none of them would talk to me. They knew who I was. They knew this was underworld business.

Rico met me at the edge of the police tape. His face was grim.

"Show me the card," I said.

He handed me a plastic bag. Inside was a piece of white paper. Written in neat handwriting were the words: "One down. Many to go. - M.S."

"The others all had the same message?"

Rico nodded. "Different handwriting, but same signature. He's not hiding anymore, boss. He wants a war."

I stared at the ruins of Torres's house. The man had three kids. Two grandkids. Now they were orphans because of Marco's games.

"Who else?" I asked.

"Councilwoman Chen. Councilman Rodriguez. DiMarco. Patterson. And Volkov."

Each name hit me like a punch. These weren't just politicians. They were people who believed in change. People who thought the underworld could be something more than violence and fear.

Now they were ash.

"That's six of the twelve council members," I said. "The six who might have sided with us."

"Yeah. The other six are all Marco's people. Or scared enough to vote his way."

I walked closer to the crater. The heat from the fire was still strong. I could smell gasoline and something else. Something that made my stomach turn.

"Dante."

I turned. Rico was holding his phone.

"Another one just went off. Councilman Blake."

Seven. Seven good people dead because they dared to stand against Marco Santini.

I pulled out my phone and called my contacts in the other territories. Same story everywhere. Bombs. Bodies. Fear.

By sunrise, the count was ten.

Ten council members dead. Ten families destroyed. Ten voices silenced forever.

I stood on the roof of my building and looked out over the city. Smoke was rising from four different directions. Fire trucks raced through the streets. The morning news was already calling it the worst terrorist attack in the city's history.

But I knew better. This wasn't terrorism. This was strategy.

Marco wasn't trying to win hearts and minds anymore. He wasn't playing politics. He was burning everything to the ground.

My phone rang. Unknown number.

"Hello, Dante."

Marco's voice was calm. Almost cheerful.

"You sick bastard," I said.

"Now, now. Is that any way to talk to family?"

"We're not family."

"We're in the same business, you and I. That makes us family whether you like it or not."

I gripped the phone tighter. "Those people had children, Marco. Innocent people."

"There are no innocent people in our world, Dante. You know that."

"What do you want?"

"I want you to understand something. This isn't about winning anymore. This is about survival. My survival."

"So you're going to kill everyone who might oppose you?"

"If I have to, yes."

I closed my eyes. "You're insane."

Marco laughed. It was a cold sound. "Insane? No, I'm practical. You see, I've been in this business longer than you've been alive. I've seen empires rise and fall. I've watched good men try to change things, only to end up dead in alleys."

"So you decided to be the one doing the killing."

"I decided to be the one still standing when the smoke clears."

The line went quiet for a moment. In the distance, I could hear sirens.

"Here's what's going to happen, Dante. You're going to call off this little rebellion of yours. You're going to tell Eve to step back. And you're going to let me run things the way they should be run."

"And if I don't?"

"Then tomorrow there will be more bombs. More bodies. And the day after that, even more. I'll keep killing until there's no one left to oppose me. Until the only choice is me or chaos."

"You're already chaos, Marco."

"No, son. I'm order. I'm the natural state of things. You and Eve, you're the chaos. You're trying to change something that's worked for centuries."

I wanted to reach through the phone and strangle him. "This isn't over."

"It is, actually. Look around you, Dante. Look at what I can do with just one night's work. Imagine what I can do with a week. A month."

The line went dead.

I stood there for a long time, watching the smoke rise. My city was bleeding. My people were dying. And Marco Santini was just getting started.

Rico appeared beside me. "Orders, boss?"

I thought about it. Marco was right about one thing—this wasn't politics anymore. This was war. But not the kind of war he thought it was.

"Double the security on all our remaining people," I said. "Triple it on the council members who are still alive."

"Already done."

"And Rico?"

"Yeah, boss?"

"Start putting together a list. Everyone who works for Marco. Everyone who supports him. Everyone who takes his money."

Rico's eyes went cold. "What kind of list?"

I looked at him. "The kind where we don't play defense anymore."

He smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. "I'll get right on it."

After he left, I stayed on the roof. The sun was getting higher now. The city was waking up to a new reality. A reality where ten good people were dead because they dared to dream of something better.

Marco thought he was winning. He thought fear would make people fall in line. He thought burning everything down would leave him king of the ashes.

He was wrong.

He'd just given me something I didn't have before. He'd given me a reason to stop playing nice. A reason to fight fire with fire.

He wanted to see what chaos looked like?

He was about to find out.