4. Dante
FOUR
I marched down the gilded corridors of our palatial family mansion, my gut tying itself in knots. The closer I got to the old man’s study, the more last night’s shitshow pushed to the front of my mind, demanding attention.
What was supposed to be a routine drug delivery at the warehouse had turned into a disaster. One minute, we were prepping for a massive shipment; the next, all hell broke loose. The DEA hit us hard, their tactical teams breaching the building with a ferocity I hadn’t seen in a long time.
Gunfire erupted, chaos took over. Our men rallied, fighting back with everything they had. Amid the commotion, I spotted her—the female agent—moving to her partner’s side with lethal grace. He’d been shot, already gone by the time I’d sneaked up behind her. Our eyes locked for a split second, and something stirred deep within me, a primal curiosity I couldn’t quite place.
I could have ended her life right then. But instead of pulling the trigger, I let her live—a decision that both intrigued and unsettled me. My father would likely give me hell for it if he knew.
Breathing heavily, I pushed open the doors and stepped inside.
“Ah, Dante,” my father’s voice boomed, surprisingly jovial. “Come in.”
Ricardo Reyes cut an imposing figure, even when seated behind his massive desk. His broad shoulders filled out the expensive suit he wore, and his salt-and-pepper hair was slicked back in a manner that exuded power and authority.
“You wanted to see me, Father?” I asked, my voice even despite the unease that churned within me.
“Indeed, my son.” He gestured for me to take a seat, his piercing gaze never wavering. “I trust you’ve recovered from last night’s... unpleasantness.”
I bristled at the memory, my jaw clenching involuntarily. “The DEA caught us off guard. It won’t happen again.”
Amusement danced across my father’s features. “Oh, but it’s not a problem, Dante.”
My brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”
Ricardo leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as a sly grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Let’s just say I had a hunch and made the arrangements. Made sure the product was safely stored elsewhere.”
Realization dawned on me, and I felt anger rise within me. “You knew the DEA was coming, and you still sent me?”
My father’s grin widened, his teeth gleaming like a shark’s. “They had to believe we were clueless about them coming. With you there, they assumed we had no idea. And it worked like a charm, did it not?”
I clenched my fists, struggling to rein in my fury. “People died in that raid, Father. And for what? Some twisted game to…one-up each other?”
Ricardo waved a dismissive hand. “Casualties are inevitable in our line of work, Dante. It could happen to you and me tomorrow. You know that better than anyone.”
He was right, of course. Death was an ever-present specter in the world we inhabited, a constant companion that never strayed too far. Still, the casual way he brushed off the loss of life left a sour taste in my mouth.
“As for the game,” my father continued, “plans are in motion. The DEA is getting closer, but we’ll stop them.”
I shook my head, still trying to understand his tactics. “But how? Unless we scale back our drug trade, we’ll end up either in prison or dead. I don’t see the endgame, Father.”
Ricardo’s expression grew somber, his eyes taking on a steely glint. “The endgame, my son, is survival. The DEA has been snapping at our heels for far too long. It’s time to turn the tables and put them on the defensive.”
A slow, sinister smile spread across his face, and I saw the depth of my father’s brutality. He was playing a long game that would undoubtedly leave a trail of bodies in its wake.
I fucking hated this life.
“What about the female agent?” I asked, unable to shake the memory of her defiant eyes.
My father’s brow arched ever so slightly. “The one you let live?”
My jaw dropped. Papi knew. Somebody must have seen me.
“An interesting choice, Dante. Perhaps you saw something in her that piqued your curiosity.”
I said nothing, unwilling to play into his games. Ricardo studied me for a moment, then chuckled.
“No matter. She’s inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. A pawn to be sacrificed when the time is right.”
His words sent a ripple of unease through me, but I kept my expression neutral. The female agent may have been an adversary, but something about her stirred a sense of... fuck, I didn’t have a clue.
“Anyway, I need your help, my son. I know you have your little pet project going, but can you spare me half your time? Oversee a couple of deliveries. Take Marco with you if you must.”
“Of course,” I said and nodded, a fake smile plastered on my face.
“Wonderful, now if you’ll please…” My father lifted his hand to dismiss me, but last night’s raid wasn’t the only topic on my mind. Something, or rather someone, bothered me.
“Father, on another matter, we can’t ignore the Cruz situation any longer,” I began, keeping my voice level despite the simmering frustration. “Javier keeps harassing the club, threatening our staff. He’s getting bolder and more aggressive. It’s only a matter of time before he makes a serious play for power.”
Ricardo fixed me with a look that could freeze lava. “You can’t touch Javier Cruz,” he said, his voice dangerous.
I felt my eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “What? Why the hell not?”
“That’s not your concern, Dante,” he said, his tone brooking no argument. “I need you to focus on keeping our operations running smoothly. The last thing we need is fighting between the cartels.”
I clenched my jaw, feeling the muscles twitch with the effort of holding back a torrent of words I knew I’d regret. “With all due respect, Father, ignoring Cruz will not make him disappear. He’s a threat, and it’s only a matter of time before he?—”
“Enough!” Ricardo slammed his fist on the desk, the sound echoing off the walls of his opulent office. “I have my reasons, and you will abide by my decision. Do I make myself clear?”
I stood up, the chair scraping against the marble floor. “Crystal,” I ground out, my hands balled into fists at my sides.
“Anyway, enough talk,” my father said, rising from his chair. “Go take care of that silly club of yours. I’m sure there’s something that needs to be done.”
I nodded, recognizing the blunt dismissal for what it was. My father had always hated the idea that I wanted an actual business. He didn’t grasp that it made the cartel look more legit. Instead, he called it a waste of money.
As I turned to leave, my father’s voice stopped me in my tracks.
“Oh, and Dante?” I glanced over my shoulder, meeting his piercing gaze. “Don’t let your... curiosities cloud your judgment. We’re at the brink of a war with the DEA, and in war, there can be no room for weakness.”
His words hung in the air like a lingering threat, a reminder of the consequences that awaited me should I stray from the path he had laid out. With a curt nod, I exited the study.
My life was fucking complicated. One foot in my father’s gruesome world, the other in my dream of a curated fleet of establishments, clubs, bars, and hotels in South Beach. Away from the violence and politics among the cartels and their leaders. What was their goal, anyway? More money? More power? Was it worth the price we paid, the pieces of our souls we chipped away with every brutal act?
I shook my head. Now was not the time for contemplating and daydreaming. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t abandon my father. I was born to one day replace him as the head of the cartel. I couldn’t afford to look weak, not now, not ever. I had a job for my father—and a club to run for myself.
I caught sight of my sister, Sofia, in the study, pacing back and forth, her phone pressed to her ear. She was engrossed in conversation, her free hand gesturing animatedly as she spoke. Curiosity peaked, and I moved closer.
“I know, right? And it’ll be fine. Don’t worry!” she gushed, her voice filled with excitement. “I can’t wait for you to meet him.”
Suddenly, she looked up and noticed me standing there. Her eyes widened, and she quickly wrapped up the call. “Hey, listen, I’ve got to go. My brother just walked in. I’ll call you back later, okay? Bye!”
She hung up the phone and turned to face me, her brow furrowing with concern as she took in my expression. “Dante? What’s wrong? You look upset.”
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “It’s nothing, Sof. Just got out of a meeting with Dad, that’s all.”
Her eyes softened, and she nodded in understanding. “Ah. I see. One of those meetings, huh?”
A humorless chuckle escaped my lips. “Yeah. You could say that.”
Sofia knew better than to press for details. Growing up in the Reyes family, we learned early that certain things couldn’t be discussed openly. The family business was a complex web of secrets and lies; the less she knew, the better.
“I’m sorry, Dante,” she said, squeezing my arm. “I know how much pressure Dad puts on you. But you know you can always talk to me, right? Even if it’s just to vent.”
I smiled, grateful for her support. “I know, Sof. And I appreciate it. But trust me, you don’t want to know the details of this one.”
She held up her hands in mock surrender, her perfectly manicured nails glinting in the soft light of the hallway. “Say no more. I know the drill. But now that I have you here, I need a small favor.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what might that be, dear sister? Another one of your schemes?”
Sofia grinned, her eyes sparkling with the kind of mischief that had gotten us into trouble more times than I could count when we were kids. “Well, I was thinking... how would you feel about a dinner date with me and Allen?”
I groaned, shaking my head. An evening of forced conversations with some random guy, likely looking to take advantage of my sister, was my least favorite way of spending a night. Her guys never last more than two weeks tops, anyway. “Sofia, I’m sorry, but I don’t have time. With business going crazy, you know. By the way, who’s Allen?”
She pouted, her lower lip jutting out in that infuriatingly adorable way that always got to me. “Allen is new in town, and I really like him. I want you to meet him to ensure he’s good enough for your little sister. Plus, you gotta eat!”
I sighed, feeling my resolve crumble in her pleading gaze. Sofia was always my weakness, the one I could never say no to. Even when we were kids, she had a way of wrapping me around her little finger with just a bat of her eyelashes and a well-timed “please.”
I looked at her, taking in her face. Her dark hair was pulled back into a messy bun, and her brown eyes were wide and pleading.
“Fine,” I relented, throwing up my hands in defeat. “If you guys are still together in a month, I’ll think about it. This Allen dude better be a nice guy to you, or–”
Sofia squealed with delight, throwing her arms around me in a tight hug that nearly knocked the wind out of me. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best brother ever, you know that? And don’t worry, I can take care of myself. But it’s sweet of you to be so protective.”
I chuckled, hugging her back and ruffling her hair affectionately. “Yeah, yeah. Just remember this the next time I need a favor from you. And for the record, I’m not being protective. I just don’t want to deal with you moping around the house if things don’t work out.”
She laughed, punching me lightly in the arm. “Please, as if I would ever mope. That’s more your style, Mr. Broody.”
I clutched my chest in mock offense as Sofia’s words hit me. “Mr. Broody? Ouch, little sis, you wound me.”
She rolled her eyes, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. “Oh please, don’t be so dramatic.”
I laughed. Sofia was the one person who could remind me not to take life too seriously.
“Alright, alright. I’ll leave you to enjoy your evening,” I conceded, affectionately ruffling my sister’s hair. “Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
She batted my hand away, sticking her tongue out at me. “That doesn’t leave much out, does it?”
With a wink and a laugh, I headed for the door, leaving Sofia to her devices. As I stepped outside into the hot evening, I loosened my tie and inhaled deeply, savoring the brief respite from the heavy burden of my responsibilities.
I made my way across the expansive grounds to the garage, where my pride and joy awaited—a sleek, gunmetal gray Maserati Quattroporte. The purr of the powerful engine roared to life as I slid behind the wheel. Something about the thrill of speed never failed to invigorate me.
As I peeled out of the driveway, I felt some tension from my meeting with my father dissipate. The city blurred past my window, a kaleidoscope of color and sound, and for a fleeting moment, I allowed myself to get lost in the rush of adrenaline.
But the reprieve was short-lived. As I merged onto the highway, my mind drifted back to the previous night’s events and the chaos that had unfolded at the warehouse. The female agent’s eyes, their defiance smoldering even as my gun loomed before her, scorched a permanent place in my mind.
I felt that there was more to her than met the eye. Something about her had sparked a curiosity, a desire to unravel the mystery behind those piercing eyes.
Shaking my head, I pushed the thought aside. Now was not the time for such distractions. I had a club to run, and with my father’s latest machinations, the stakes were higher than ever.
Reaching into my jacket pocket, I pulled out my phone and hit the speed dial for Marco. After a couple of rings, his gruff voice crackled through the speakers.
“Yo, what’s up, man?”
“Marco, it’s me,” I said, my tone all business. “I need you to meet me at the club. We’ve got shit to discuss.”
There was a brief pause before he responded. “Roger that. I’ll be there in twenty.”
I ended the call and tossed my phone onto the passenger seat, my knuckles tightening around the steering wheel. Marco had been my right-hand man for as long as I could remember, the closest thing I had to a brother outside my blood family. If anyone could help me figure out the next step, it was him.