Chapter Nineteen
Dante
The scent of lavender oil and eucalyptus hangs heavy in the air. I blend into the shadows, my eyes locked on Lorenzo De Luca’s prone form on the massage table. His eyes are closed, face relaxed. Fool.
I can just put a bullet to his head right now and be done with it but I want him to see who ends his his life.
The masseuse’s eyes widen when she spots me. I press a finger to my lips, shaking my head slightly. She swallows hard and gives an almost imperceptible nod, her hands trembling as she continues kneading Lorenzo’s shoulders.
I move silently across the dim room, my footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. Lorenzo remains oblivious, letting out a contented sigh. The corner of my mouth twitches. Not for long.
In one fluid motion, I’m at his side. “Comfortable, Lorenzo?” I growl.
His eyes fly open. He jerks upright, nearly knocking the masseuse off her feet. She scrambles away, the door slamming behind her.
“Dante,” Lorenzo spits, scrambling to cover himself with a towel. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
I lean in close, my voice low and dangerous. “Paying an old friend a visit. Did you really think you could hide from me?”
My pulse quickens, adrenaline flooding my veins. This is what I live for - the thrill of the hunt, cornering my prey. And Lorenzo, this arrogant bastard who dared to threaten what’s mine, he’s been at the top of my list for far too long.
Lorenzo’s eyes dart around, searching for an escape. There is none.
“You’re making a mistake,” he hisses. “My men will-”
“Your men?” I laugh, the sound devoid of humor. “Look around, Lorenzo. It’s just you and me now.”
Fear flashes in his eyes, quickly replaced by defiance. Good. I want him to fight. It’ll make breaking him that much sweeter.
“What do you want, Dante?” Lorenzo demands, his jaw clenched.
I smile, cold and sharp as a blade. “Oh, we’re going to have a long chat about respect, family, and knowing your place in this city. And trust me…” I crack my knuckles, savoring the moment. “You’re going to wish you’d never crossed me.”
Lorenzo’s lip curls into a sneer. “Respect? Family? That’s rich coming from you, Dante. How’s your precious Adriana? Still playing house with daddy’s little debt payment?”
My vision flashes red. I clench my fists, fighting the urge to crush his windpipe right here.
“Careful, De Luca,” I snarl.
He laughs a harsh bark that grates on my nerves. “Hit a nerve, did I? Face it, Rossi. You’re nothing but a glorified thug playing at being a boss. Your father must be rolling in his grave.”
I step closer, looming over him. “And you’re a pathetic excuse for a rival. Tell me, how does it feel knowing you’ll never measure up to your old man’s legacy?”
Lorenzo’s face twists with rage. “You son of a-”
“Ah ah,” I interrupt, wagging a finger. “Let’s keep our mothers out of this, shall we? Though I hear yours was quite… popular among the dockworkers.”
He lunges at me, but I’m ready. I sidestep, letting him stumble past. Amateur.
“You’ll regret this, Dante,” he snarls, righting himself. “I’ll burn everything you love to the ground.”
I smile, cold and deadly. “You can try. But remember, Lorenzo - I don’t play with fire. I am the fire.”
The air crackles with tension as we circle each other, two predators waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
Lorenzo’s eyes narrow, and I see the exact moment he decides to attack. I’m already moving as he lunges, his fist grazing my jaw. The pain narrowly registers as adrenaline surges through me.
I drive my elbow into his ribs, feeling the satisfying crunch of bone. Lorenzo grunts but doesn’t back down. We grapple, crashing into the massage table. It splinters beneath our combined weight.
“Is this the best you’ve got, Rossi?” Lorenzo taunts, blood trickling from his split lip.
I don’t waste breath on a reply. Instead, I slam my forehead into his nose. The crunch is music to my ears.
We roll across the floor, trading blows. My knuckles split as they connect with his jaw. His knee drives into my stomach, forcing the air from my lungs.
The fight is brutal, primal. We’re no longer mafia bosses, just two men intent on destroying each other.
I think of Adriana as I dodge a wild swing. Her face, her smile. The way she looked at our wedding, beautiful. I’ll end this threat to her, to us, once and for all.
Lorenzo’s fist catches me in the temple. Stars explode in my vision. I stumble, tasting copper.
“Not so tough now, are you?” Lorenzo pants, circling me like a shark.
I spit blood onto the pristine tile floor. “I’m just getting started.”
I analyze Lorenzo’s movements, searching for weaknesses. His left shoulder droops slightly - an old injury I’d heard whispers about. Perfect.
“Your father would be ashamed,” I goad, watching his eyes flash with rage.
Lorenzo charges, exactly as I’d hoped. I sidestep, driving my fist into his weak shoulder. He howls in pain, stumbling.
“You know nothing of my father!” he snarls, swinging wildly.
I duck under his arm, landing a sharp uppercut to his jaw. “I know he’d be disgusted by your pathetic attempt to steal what’s mine.”
Lorenzo’s face contorts with fury. Good. An angry opponent is a careless one.
He lunges again, but I’m ready. I grab his arm, using his momentum to slam him into the wall. Plaster cracks. A framed painting crashes to the floor.
“Once I kill you, I’m going to have so much fun with your little whore wife Adriana,” Lorenzo growls, struggling to break free.
My vision goes red. I twist his arm behind his back, hearing tendons strain. “You so much as think her name again, and I’ll cut out your tongue.”
Lorenzo headbutts me, breaking my hold. We stumble apart, both breathing heavily.
“Face it, Dante,” he pants, “You’re losing your edge. The Rossi empire is crumbling.”
I wipe blood from my eye, forcing a cold smile. “Then why are you the one who can barely stand?”
We crash through the spa doors, stumbling into the dimly lit hallway.
Lorenzo grabs a potted plant, hurling it at my head. I duck, hearing it shatter against the wall behind me.
“You can’t protect her,” he taunts, backing towards the sauna. “Adriana deserves better than a monster like you.”
His words cut deeper than any blade. Images of Adriana flash through my mind - her gentle smile, her soft touch. The thought of losing her…
I roar, tackling Lorenzo through the sauna door. Steam billows around us as we grapple on the hot wooden benches. Sweat mingles with blood, making our grips slippery.
“I’m the only one who can keep her safe,” I snarl, pinning him down. “From vultures like you.”
Lorenzo laughs, a harsh, bitter sound. “Safe? You’ll drag her down into the darkness with you.”
For a moment, doubt creeps in. Am I protecting Adriana, or condemning her? But then I remember the threats, the danger that lurks around every corner. My famiglia needs me. Adriana needs me.
“Better the darkness with me,” I snarl, “than the false light you offer.”
I slam his head against the bench, feeling the fight drain from him. My chest heaves, every muscle screaming in protest. But I can’t stop. Not when everything I love is at stake.
With one final surge of strength, I drive my fist into Lorenzo’s jaw. The crack echoes in the steam-filled room. His neck twists and his body goes limp beneath me.
I stagger back, my legs trembling. The adrenaline starts to ebb, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion. My knuckles throb, skin split and bleeding. Every breath feels like fire in my lungs.
“It’s over,” I mutter, more to myself than to Lorenzo’s lifeless form.
I lean against the sauna wall, letting the heat soak into my battered body. The fight replays in my mind - every punch, every kick, every vicious word. It wasn’t just about Lorenzo. It was about everything he represents - the threats to my family, to Adriana.
Adriana. Her name centers me, gives me purpose beyond the violence. I picture her waiting for me, probably worried sick. I need to get back to her, to make sure she’s safe.
I push off the wall, wincing as my bruised ribs protest. There’s a lot to deal with - the spa, Lorenzo, my injuries. But all I can think about is getting home to Adriana.
As I stumble out of the sauna, one thought drives me forward: I’ve kept her safe.
I survey the destruction around me, my mind already shifting into cleanup mode. Shattered glass crunches under my feet as I make my way to the reception area. The place looks like a war zone - upended furniture, smashed mirrors, blood spatters on pristine white tiles.
I pull out my phone, fingers leaving crimson streaks on the screen as I dial. “Enzo,” I say when he answers, my voice rough. “I need a cleanup crew at Serenity Spa. Now.”
“On it, boss,” he replies without hesitation. “How bad?”
I let out a humorless chuckle. “Let’s just say it’s not so serene anymore.”
As I end the call, my gaze falls on a framed photo of the spa owner - all smiles and fake tan. Poor bastard has no idea what hit his business. I’ll have to compensate him generously for the inconvenience.
I make my way to the exit, each step a reminder of the brutal fight. The adrenaline’s wearing off, and I can feel every punch Lorenzo landed. But the pain is almost welcome - a testament to what I’ll endure to protect what’s mine.
As I push open the door, the cool night air hits me like a slap. I breathe it in, tasting freedom and victory. Lorenzo’s out of the picture. One less threat to worry about.
I slide into my car, gripping the steering wheel. The leather feels cool against my battered knuckles. As I start the engine, a grim smile tugs at my split lip.
The drive home is a blur of streetlights and shadows. My mind races, replaying the fight, calculating the fallout. By the time I pull into the driveway, my body’s stiff, every movement a reminder of the battle.
I step out of the car, and there she is. Adriana. Standing in the doorway, her silhouette backlit by the warm glow from inside. My breath catches, not from pain, but from the sight of her.
“Dante?” Her voice trembles as I approach. Her eyes widen, taking in my battered state. “Oh my God, what happened to you?”
I reach for her, cupping her face in my hands. “It’s nothing, cara mia. I’ve had worse.”
She shakes her head, her fingers ghosting over the bruise forming on my cheek. “Who did this to you?”
I hold her gaze, unflinching. “Lorenzo. But he won’t be a problem anymore. Not for me, not for you, not for anyone.”
Adriana goes still, the color draining from her face. I can see the realization dawning in her eyes, the understanding of what I’ve done. For a moment, I fear she’ll pull away, disgusted by the violence that clings to me like a second skin.
But then she surprises me. Her arms wrap around me, tight and desperate. “I’m just… I’m glad you’re safe,” she says against my chest. “I was so worried.”
I freeze, caught off guard by her embrace. This tenderness, this concern - it’s foreign to me. In my world, violence is met with more violence, not with care.
Before I can react, Adriana lifts her face to mine. Her lips press against my bloodied ones, soft and warm. The kiss is gentle, mindful of my injuries, but it ignites a fierce need within me.
When she pulls back, I see a mix of emotions in her eyes - fear, relief, and an emotion that makes my heart race faster than any fight ever could.
I can’t hold back any longer. My hands cup her face, rough and desperate, as I crash my lips against hers. The taste of copper mingles with her sweetness, and I drink her in like a man dying of thirst. Every nerve in my body is on fire, alive with a need I’ve never felt before.
When we break apart, breathless, the words tumble out before I can stop them. “I love you, Adriana,” I rasp, my voice raw with emotion. “God help me, I love you more than I thought possible.”
For a heartbeat, the world stands still. I’ve laid myself bare, vulnerable in a way I’ve never been before. The silence stretches, and I feel a flicker of fear. What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if I’ve misread everything?
But then Adriana’s eyes light up, a smile breaking across her face like the sun after a storm. “Dante,” she breathes, her hands clinging to my shirt. “I love you too. I think I have for a while now.”
Relief floods through me, so intense it’s almost painful. I pull her close, burying my face in her hair, inhaling her scent. For the first time in my life, I feel… whole. Complete. As if all the broken, jagged pieces of me have finally found their place.
“You’re mine,” I say against her skin, the possessiveness in my tone tempered by a newfound tenderness. “And I’m yours. Always.”