CHAPTER 18 VINCENTS DECISION #3
Dario’s lips curved into a faint, humorless smile. “If Vincent wants to make an example of me, he’ll have to try harder than this.” He stepped away from the window, his movements deliberate, controlled. “I’ve survived worse.”
“Bullshit,” Tommy snapped, pushing off the table. “This isn’t some street-level feud, Dario. This is Vincent Moretti. You don’t just walk away from that.”
Dario paused, his gaze sharpening as it locked onto Tommy’s. “I’m not walking away. I’m choosing my ground. And if Vincent wants to escalate, that’s his prerogative. But he won’t find me unprepared.”
Tommy shook his head, frustration etched into every line of his face.
“You’re underestimating him. And you’re underestimating what this means for the rest of us. If Vincent comes for you, it’s not merely you in the crosshairs. It’s everyone who’s ever been loyal to you. Everyone who’s ever followed you.”
Dario didn’t respond immediately, his silence heavy, loaded. He glanced toward the door, then back at Tommy. “Then make your choice,” he said finally, his voice calm, almost detached. “If you’re worried about where your loyalty lies, now’s the time to decide.”
Tommy stared at him, incredulous. “You think that’s what this is? Some fucking loyalty test? This isn’t about me, Dario. This is about you. You’re so damn sure you’re untouchable, but you’re not. And if you keep pushing Vincent, he’s going to prove it.”
Dario’s expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of something—something Tommy couldn’t quite place—before he turned toward the door.
“Then let him try,” he said, his voice quiet, almost thoughtful.
“But remind him of this: I’ve spent years cleaning up his messes. If he wants to make me a problem, he’ll find out just how much of one I can be.”
Tommy didn’t try to stop him as he walked out, the door closing softly behind him. The room felt emptier without Dario’s presence, the weight of his absence settling over Tommy like a shroud. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply, his mind racing with possibilities, consequences.
Dario exited the building, the cool night air brushing against his skin as he stepped onto the sidewalk.
He didn’t look back, didn’t hesitate. He knew what was coming, knew the risks.
But he also knew this: he wasn’t going to wait for Vincent to make the first move.
If Vincent wanted a war, Dario would give him one.
And somewhere, in the shadows, a pair of eyes watched him go, the faint click of a phone’s camera shutter barely audible in the stillness of the night.
Dario stepped into the dim backroom of Moretti’s social club, the air thick with cigar smoke and the quiet hum of a ceiling fan that hadn’t been updated since the seventies.
Vincent sat at the head of the table, fingers steepled, watching him with the kind of calm that only came before a storm.
Dominic and Anthony flanked him, their expressions unreadable.
Evelyn leaned against the sideboard, arms crossed, her gaze flickering between them like she was already calculating the fallout.
Tommy stood by the door, shoulders tense, his usual easy grin absent.
"You're late," Vincent said.
Dario didn’t bother with apologies. "You wanted to talk."
Vincent tapped a manila folder on the table. "I wanted to hear an explanation."
Dario didn’t need to open it to know what was inside. Surveillance photos—him meeting with the Rosetti crew two nights ago. A courtesy call, nothing more. A strategic move to keep tensions from boiling over. But the fact that Vincent had him watched at all said enough.
"You don’t make deals without me," Vincent said.
"I didn’t make a deal."
"You don’t talk to outsiders without my say-so."
Dario kept his voice level. "Then you should’ve been handling it."
A muscle jumped in Vincent’s jaw. "You think you run this family?"
Dario didn’t flinch. "I think I keep it running."
Dominic shifted in his seat. Anthony’s fingers tightened around his glass.
Vincent leaned back, the chair creaking under his weight. "You don’t get to decide what’s best for us. Not without coming to me first."
"And if waiting means we lose the advantage?" Dario countered.
"That’s not your call."
The words hung in the air, sharp as a blade. Dario could feel the line he’d crossed, the unspoken rule he’d broken. Power was supposed to flow through Vincent. Always.
Evelyn exhaled softly, almost imperceptibly. "Vincent—"
"Stay out of it," Vincent cut her off without looking away from Dario.
Tommy’s fingers twitched at his sides, itching for a fight that wasn’t his to start.
Dario could see it then—the shift. The moment he stopped being an asset and became a threat. Vincent’s eyes were cold, assessing. No trust left. Just calculation.
"You don’t trust me to do my job anymore," Dario said. It wasn’t a question.
"I don’t trust you to remember who’s in charge," Vincent corrected.
Silence stretched.
Then, quietly, Dominic spoke. "This isn’t how we handle family."
Vincent’s smile was thin. "Family doesn’t go behind each other’s backs."
Dario let out a slow breath. There was no coming back from this. Not with Vincent. Not with the way the rules worked.
"You want me to step down?" Dario asked.
Vincent didn’t hesitate. "I want you to remember your place."
Dario nodded once. Then he turned for the door. Tommy moved to follow.
"Not you," Vincent said. "You stay."
Tommy froze.
Dario didn’t look back. He didn’t need to. He could feel the fracture, the way loyalty would be tested now.
The door clicked shut behind him.
Inside, he already knew, Vincent would be laying out the new reality—one where Dario Vitale was no longer family.
He was the enemy now.