Chapter 6 - The Traitor’s Toast
In the main dining hall of the estate, Julian Moretti was pacing back and forth near the long mahogany table, sipping a glass of bourbon. His hands were shaking, though he was trying his best to maintain an air of nonchalant worry.
The heavy double doors of the dining room swung open.
Dante walked in, accompanied by Marcus and four heavily armed guards.
Julian immediately set his glass down, putting on an expression of deep relief. "Dante! Thank God. Is the estate secure? Did the guards catch that sniper?"
Dante walked slowly to the head of the table, pulling out a chair and sitting down. He placed Lily’s pink backpack on the table in front of him.
"The sniper is dead, Julian," Dante said smoothly. "And the house is entirely secured."
"Good," Julian breathed out a sigh, wiping sweat from his forehead. "That was horrific. First your allergic reaction, then a sniper... it's clear the New York families are launching a full-scale assault on us."
"It wasn't New York, Julian," Dante said quietly.
Julian frowned. "What do you mean?"
Dante reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small black flash drive, tossing it onto the wooden table where it slid across the polished surface, stopping right beside Julian's glass of bourbon.
"What's this?" Julian asked, eyeing the drive warily.
"It's a high-definition recording from the owl statue on the top shelf of the library," Dante said, leaning back in his chair. "It shows everything, Julian. The terrace door. The glass vial. The thallium extract. And your face."
Julian froze. Every ounce of color vanished from his skin. The silence in the dining room became deafening.
"Dante..." Julian’s voice cracked. "Listen to me..."
"I listened to you for thirty years," Dante interrupted, his voice dropping into a terrifyingly quiet whisper. "I gave you a home. I paid off your gambling debts in Vegas. I gave you fifteen percent of our shipping logistics revenue. And you sold my life to the Viper Syndicate for thirty million dollars."
Julian backed away toward the edge of the table, his eyes darting wildly toward the doors. "They were going to kill me, Dante! I had no choice! The Vipers gave me an ultimatum! Either I give them access to you, or they put me in a woodchipper!"
"You always had a choice," Dante said coldly. "You could have come to your brother. I would have destroyed them for you. Instead, you chose to poison my drink and hire a sniper to finish the job if the poison failed."
Julian suddenly reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a small silver pistol. "Don't come any closer!" he shrieked, pointing the gun at Dante. "I swear to God, Dante, I'll shoot you right here!"
Dante didn't even flinch. He didn't draw a weapon. He simply sat in his chair, looking at his half-brother with cold pity.
"Look at your red dot laser, Julian," Dante said softly.
Julian blinked, looking down at his own chest. Four bright red laser spots from Marcus and the guards were resting precisely over his heart.
"You were always a terrible chess player," Dante murmured. "Drop the gun."
Julian’s hand shook so violently that the pistol slipped from his fingers, clattering loudly against the hardwood floor. He fell to his knees, bursting into pathetic, desperate sobs.
"Please, Dante! I'm your brother! Our father—"
"Our father would have put a bullet in your head ten minutes ago," Dante said, standing up. "Marcus, take him to the warehouse by the docks. Federal authorities will receive an anonymous tip about his financial crimes and his connection to the Viper Syndicate by midnight. Let him spend the rest of his miserable life in a federal penitentiary."
"No! Dante! Please!" Julian screamed as the guards dragged him out of the room, his shouts fading down the corridor.
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Dante stood alone in the dining hall. He picked up Lily’s pink backpack from the table, holding it gently in his hand.
He tapped his ear console. "Marcus, prepare my private helicopter. We are going to the residence of Sarah Carter."
