Chapter 12
CHANTE
S eeing them all cozy, playing house like they’d just won the damn lottery—it made my blood boil. Genesis, Dante, and my little girl, walking around like a picture-perfect family. It was a joke. They thought they could just erase me from the story, like I didn’t exist, like I didn’t matter. Nah. If they wanted to play games, I’d show them what real pain felt like.
I had been watching, biding my time. But tonight? Tonight was the night I reminded them who they were dealing with.
I made a call.
“Is it done?” I asked, my voice low, controlled.
“Almost,” the man on the other end replied, the sound of traffic in the background.
I leaned back in my chair, glaring at the picture of Genesis on my phone. The one where she was laughing, holding that damn kid, with Dante’s arm wrapped around her. It should’ve been me. I was the one who built her up. But if she wanted to tear me down, I’d show her what it felt like to be truly destroyed.
“Good,” I muttered. “I want it clean. Quick. Then I have another job.”
I hung up and took a long drag of my cigarette, staring out at the darkened street. They had no idea what was coming.
The old lady wasn’t hard to find. Dante liked to visit her, like the good little grandson he was. All it took was a little patience. She was on her way home from some store, minding her business. And just like that, my guy was on her, fast, like a viper.
I didn’t need her dead. That wasn’t the goal. Not yet. Just a little message. Break a bone or two, make sure she feels it every time she breathes.
When I got the confirmation text—*Done. She's alive. But it ain't pretty.*—I grinned. That was part one.
Then came part two.
Cecil.
That motherfucker was just as guilty as Genesis. He was supposed to keep her in line, keep her under control. But instead, he’d let her run wild, running straight into the arms of another man. Unforgivable.
Cecil had been sloppy, though. He thought he was untouchable because of the little trafficking gig he ran. I'd helped him rebuild that empire of his after his father fucked it up. They had been about to lose everything before I offered to help. Their dirty secret had been my meal ticket. But I knew everything. And now he’d pay.
The hit on Cecil wasn’t as clean as I’d wanted it to be. My guy was supposed to rough him up good, send a real clear message. Instead, I get a call.
“He’s in the ICU, boss.”
I gritted my teeth, fury boiling in my chest. “ICU?”
“Didn’t go as planned. He fought back.”
I swore under my breath, pacing the room. “Is he gonna make it?”
“Not sure. Docs are saying fifty-fifty.”
I ended the call and tossed my phone on the bed, my mind racing. This wasn’t how I’d wanted it. Now it was sloppy, too noticeable. But whatever. The damage was done. I’d send another message if I had to. Genesis would know what I was capable of, what I was willing to do to remind her who the fuck I am.