Chapter 16
DANTE
W e rolled up in front of the place where Chant was holed up, the silence in the car thick, charged. Beni and Massimo sat on either side of me, and I could feel their tension, their readiness. It wasn’t just my fight anymore—it had become a DeLuca problem.
But this? This was personal.
As I stepped out of the car, the weight of what I was about to do pressed on me, but it didn’t slow me down. If anything, it pushed me forward. Chant had taken too much. He had to pay. For Mimi, for Genesis, for Mia, and for Cecil, he had to die. I couldn’t let him walk away from this.
I glanced at Beni. “Make sure he doesn’t pull any bullshit.”
Beni nodded, his expression unreadable, but I could see the steel in his eyes. “We’ve got your back. Just end this.”
Massimo cracked his knuckles, already itching for a fight. “Let’s go get the bastard.”
We moved as one, slipping into the building like shadows, the tension coiling tighter with each step. He didn’t understand that this wasn’t about a turf war or some petty revenge. This was about family. This was about justice.
The door to the room where he was waiting creaked open, and there he stood, gun in hand, looking as smug as ever.
“Dante,” Chant sneered, spinning the gun around in his palm like it was a toy. “I knew you’d come. Knew you wouldn’t be able to resist.”
My jaw tightened as I stepped forward, Massimo and Beni flanking me. “I didn’t come here to play games, Chant.”
He laughed, the sound sharp and bitter. “Oh, but I think you did. You married my woman. You took what was mine, and now you think you can walk in here and settle this? I don’t think so.”
“You never owned her,” I said through clenched teeth. “You don’t own anyone.”
Chant’s face twisted with fury, and he raised the gun, pointing it at me. “She was mine first.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I growled, stepping forward. “What matters is that you hurt her. You hurt Cecil. You put my grandmother in the hospital.” I moved closer, ignoring the gun in his hand. “And you thought you could get away with it.”
His finger twitched on the trigger, but Beni was faster. In a blur of motion, he lunged forward and slapped the gun out of Chant’s hand. Massimo shoved him back, and suddenly we were all in it. Fists flew, bodies crashed against walls, and the room exploded into chaos.
Chant fought like a cornered animal, wild and desperate, but I had too much rage in me to let him win. I grabbed him by the throat, slamming him into the wall. He gasped, clawing at my hand, but I didn’t let go.
“This is for Mimi,” I snarled, tightening my grip. “For Genesis. For Mia.” I slammed him into the wall again, my voice dropping lower. “And for Cecil.”
Chant’s eyes bulged, his face turning red as he struggled to breathe. “Dante,” he croaked, his voice barely a whisper, “you don’t have to do this…”
I leaned in, my face inches from his, my grip still iron around his throat. “Oh, but I do.” My voice was cold, deadly calm. “You crossed a line, Chant. You brought this on yourself.”
I could feel his pulse hammering beneath my fingers, the fear radiating off him. His smug bravado had disappeared, replaced by pure, raw panic. But it was too late for him to beg, too late for him to make amends.
I drew back my fist and landed a solid punch across his jaw. Chant crumpled to the ground, gasping for air, but I wasn’t done. Not yet. I reached down, grabbing him by the collar, dragging him to his knees.
“You die tonight,” I said, my voice thick with the weight of everything he’d taken from me. “Not just for what you did to my family, but for the greater good. For all the lives you’ve destroyed.”
Chant’s eyes darted around the room, desperation clear in his expression, but there was no one coming to save him. No way out. This was the end.
With one final, deliberate motion, I pulled the gun from my waistband and pressed it against his temple. “Goodbye, Chant.”
I pulled the trigger.
The sound echoed through the room, and for a moment, everything went still. Chant slumped to the floor, lifeless, and the weight of what I’d done settled over me like a blanket. There was no satisfaction, no relief. Just the cold, hard fact that it was over.
I stood there, staring down at Chant’s body, breathing hard. Beni and Massimo stood nearby, silent. They didn’t need to say anything. They understood.
I holstered the gun, my hands steady, though the fire inside me still burned.
“It’s done,” I said, my voice low, almost to myself. “For me.”
Beni stepped forward, placing a hand on my shoulder. “We’ll take care of it. Maybe you're a DeLuca after all.”
“Maybe,” Massimo nodded, his face grim but resolute. “It’s over, though.”
I glanced between them, knowing they were right. The war was over. Chant was dead. But deep down, I knew this was just the beginning of something else. Something darker.
I just hoped Genesis would understand. Just as we turned to leave, the air split with the sharp crack of gunfire. Instinct kicked in, and we dove for cover. Chant’s men, late to the party but eager to avenge their fallen leader, had finally decided to show their faces.
“Get down!” Beni shouted, pulling his own weapon as Massimo and I scrambled for cover behind the walls.
The bullets kept coming, ricocheting off the concrete, sending sparks flying. My pulse hammered in my ears as I gripped my gun, the taste of gunpowder thick in the air. This wasn’t over yet.
“We need to get the hell out of here,” Massimo growled, eyes scanning the area for a way out.
I nodded, adrenaline pumping through me. “I’ve got an idea.”
Beni fired a few shots back, keeping them pinned down, and I motioned to a door at the side of the building. “We’ll make a break for it when I give the signal.”
Another round of gunfire whizzed past us, the situation getting worse by the second.
“This is just a mess,” Beni muttered, reloading his gun.
“Chant’s men aren’t gonna back down without blood,” Massimo said grimly, peering around the corner.
“Then we’ll give them what they came for,” I snapped. “But we do it smart.”
I turned to Beni. “Cover us. Massimo and I will head for the car, then you follow.”
Beni nodded, his expression fierce. “Got it.”
I braced myself, my grip tightening on the gun. “Now!”
We bolted from cover, the hail of bullets chasing us as we ran. My heart pounded, every instinct screaming to keep moving, keep fighting. We ducked behind the car just as Beni let loose a barrage of fire behind us, keeping Chant’s men at bay.
“Go, go!” Beni shouted, his gun still blazing as he sprinted towards us.
I jumped into the driver’s seat, slamming the car into gear just as Beni dived in beside me. Massimo slid in the back, panting but unharmed.
“Drive, Dante!” Massimo yelled.
I didn’t need to be told twice. Tires screeched as we peeled out of the lot, bullets still chasing us. But we were faster. Chant’s men faded in the rearview mirror, just like their leader.
As the city lights blurred around us, the adrenaline slowly drained away, leaving only the reality of what had just happened. Chant was dead. His men were scattering.
But the fight wasn’t over yet. Not by a long shot.
“You good?” Beni asked, glancing at me from the passenger seat.
I nodded, eyes on the road. “Yeah. Just a little late, that’s all.”
Massimo chuckled darkly from the back. “Chant's men don’t know it yet, but they’re done.” He was busy doing something on his phone. Though I didn't want to know what ‘murder them all’ text he'd sent. I knew Massimo was the brute force in the Beniamino-Massimo show. But hell, Beni had held his own today.
I tightened my grip on the wheel, my mind already shifting to what came next. I needed to get back to Genesis. To Mimi. This was just the beginning.
And I wasn’t about to let anyone else suffer because of Chant’s ghost.