Chương 9 - The Lion’s Wrath
Lena dropped the phone onto the floor, her body shaking with violent, uncontrollable sobs.
"Lena!" Dante growled, pushing Marcus away and dragging himself back onto the bench. "What did she say? What did Julianna say to you?"
Lena covered her face with her hands, bowing her head toward her knees. "She’s at the hospital... she’s at the clinic with my father, Dante! She said she’ll kill him if I don't leave!"
Dante’s entire face transformed.
The pain, the fatigue, the triumph of standing—all of it evaporated, replaced by a cold, demonic rage that turned his slate-gray eyes into two pools of liquid iron.
He didn't yell. He didn't smash the furniture.
He reached down, pulled his black leather holster from the side of his chair, and strapped it across his shoulder, checking the magazine of his custom Sig Sauer pistol with a crisp, terrifying clack.
"Marcus," Dante said, his voice flat, emotionless, and colder than the river floor.
"Boss?"
"Call the dock detail. Tell them Victor Vance has officially declared war on the Vale family."
Marcus’s eyes widened, but he immediately pulled out his radio. "Understood, Boss."
Dante turned his chair toward Lena, reaching out to grab both of her hands, pulling her down until she was sitting on the bench beside him.
"Look at me, Lena," he commanded.
Lena looked at him through her tears, her heart hammering against her ribs.
"Your father is not going to die today," Dante said, his thumb stroking the back of her hand with intense, fierce absolute certainty. "Do you hear me? Nobody touches what belongs to me. Nobody."
"Dante... she’s right there," Lena sobbed. "If we send guards, she’ll do something crazy—"
"I’m not sending guards," Dante said, his dark smile returning—a smile that held zero mercy. "I am going myself."
"You can't drive! You can barely stand—"
"I don't need to stand to pull a trigger, Lena," Dante said, his dark eyes locking into hers. "And I don't need to walk to burn Victor Vance’s empire to the ground."
He turned to Marcus.
"Get the armored SUV ready at the private elevator. We leave in two minutes."
Dante looked back at Lena, reaching out to gently tuck a loose lock of dark hair behind her ear.
"You stay here with two guards," Dante said softly.
"No," Lena said, her voice suddenly snapping with a fierce, unexpected strength that surprised even Dante.
She wiped her tears away with the back of her sleeve, her dark eyes flashing with absolute determination.
"That’s my father, Dante," she said, leaning toward him. "I'm coming with you."
Dante looked at her—at her soft, voluptuous frame, at her swollen eyes, and at the unshakeable courage burning inside her quiet soul.
For the first time in his life, Dante Vale felt something deeper than power, deeper than revenge, and far more dangerous than hate.
He reached out, grabbed the back of her neck, pulled her toward him, and pressed his lips firmly against hers in a hard, possessive, desperate kiss that tasted of salt, fire, and promise.
May you like
When he pulled back, his eyes were burning.
"Then get in the car," he growled.
