Chapter 10 - THE BLOODLINE CLAIMED
Titan didn't bark. He didn't growl.
He launched himself across the ten feet of open floor like a black missile launched from a catapult.
One hundred and twenty pounds of pure muscle collided with VIPER Castellano’s right side.
The heavy jaws snapped shut around VIPER’s wrist—the wrist holding the detonator—with the sound of a crushing hydraulic press.
VIPER let out a high, terrible shriek of agony as the detonator dropped from his nerve-dead fingers and clattered uselessly across the damp floorboards.
Dante stepped forward instantly, swept the detonator away with his boot, and leveled his gun at Marco, who was writhing on the floor weeping over his broken arm.
“Titan, halt!” I commanded, running forward.
The dog released his grip instantly, stepping back and standing over VIPER’s trembling, fallen body, his broad chest heaving, his mouth dripping with blood. He placed one heavy paw directly on VIPER’s chest, pinning the old man to the wet timber.
VIPER lay on his back, gasping for air, his blood soaking into his expensive fur coat, staring up at the dog in absolute terror.
“It’s over, Uncle,” Dante said, his voice quiet, cold, and final.
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a handheld electronic diagnostic scanner, and walked over to Titan.
Dante knelt beside the dog, placing his hand gently on Titan’s neck. He looked up at me.
“Hold him steady, Rosalind.”
I knelt on the wet floor, wrapped my arms around Titan’s broad neck, and pressed my cheek against his scarred ear. “I’m here, boy. Good dog. Good boy.”
Titan relaxed, his heavy tail giving two firm thumps against the wood floor.
Dante pressed the electronic scanner against the small, healed surgical scar on Titan’s shoulder.
The scanner hummed, a tiny green light flashed on the digital screen, and a high-pitched sequence of tones chimed through the quiet boathouse.
DATA VERIFIED. CASTELLANO CHARTER LOCATED.
A series of encrypted files, asset registers, and maritime deeds began scrolling across the scanner’s small blue monitor.
Dante stood up, holding the device in his hand. He looked down at VIPER, whose eyes were wide with defeat.
“Leo,” Dante called out into the dark night air.
The heavy double doors swung open wider. Leo walked in, holding a satellite phone, flanked by four heavily armed guards dressed in tactical gear.
“The council has arrived at the main house, Boss,” Leo reported, his voice flat. “They are waiting in the grand hall.”
Dante looked at VIPER, then at Marco.
“Take them to the cellar,” Dante ordered calmly. “They will answer to the syndicate heads tonight.”
Leo’s men dragged Marco and VIPER to their feet, hustling them out of the boathouse into the pouring rain.
The boathouse was suddenly quiet, save for the sound of the ocean waves crashing against the wooden pilings beneath us.
Dante turned to me.
I was still sitting on the damp floor, my apron stained with rain and dirt, my arms wrapped around Titan’s neck. My hair was a wet mess, and my hearing aid was whistling softly from the moisture.
Dante walked over, dropped to his knees in front of me, and reached out.
He didn't touch the scanner. He didn't touch the dog.
He cupped his bare hand gently around the side of my face, his thumb tracing the sharp curve of my cheekbone. His gray eyes were dark, intense, and filled with a raw, unspoken emotion that shattered his cold mafia boss facade.
“You saved my life, Rosalind,” he whispered.
“I saved the dog,” I corrected softly, my voice trembling slightly as I looked up into his eyes. “You just happened to come with him.”
A real, genuine laugh escaped Dante’s lips—a warm, deep sound that transformed his stern face completely.
He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against mine, his warm breath fanning across my lips.
“My house is safe now,” Dante said softly. “Your brother is safe. Your debts are paid. I had my attorneys clear your veterinary license forty-eight hours ago—the state board sent the full reinstatement letter this afternoon.”
I blinked, tears suddenly stinging my eyes. “What?”
“You are free to go back to your life, Rosalind,” Dante said, his voice dropping into a low, quiet murmur. “You can open your clinic. You can leave this place and never look back.”
I looked at him, then down at Titan, who was resting his heavy jaw comfortably across my lap, completely relaxed, his eyes closed.
I thought about my small, empty apartment. I thought about a life spent fixing wealthy people’s pets in a sterile room.
Then I looked at the man holding my face in his hands—a man who had faced his entire empire breaking apart and had trusted me to help him hold it together.
“What if I don't want to leave?” I whispered.
Dante’s hand tightened slightly against my cheek, his gray eyes darkening with a sudden, fierce heat.
“If you stay,” Dante whispered, his lips hovering an inch from mine, “you aren't my maid anymore, Rosalind. You are the lady of this house. And nobody in this city will ever touch you again.”
Titan let out a long, happy sigh, burying his snout deeper into my apron.
I smiled, reached up, and wrapped my fingers around Dante’s wrist.
May you like
“Tell your grandmother to save me a cup of coffee,” I said softly. “We have a long night ahead of us.”
Dante smiled, leaned in, and kissed me as the storm raged on outside.
