Chapter 5 - The Velvet Trap
The ballroom held its breath.
Nobody moved. Nobody breathed. Capos who had been raising their glasses to Julian thirty seconds ago shrank back into the shadows, desperate to pretend they had never been standing on the dais.
Julian’s eyes darted frantically around the room, searching for his personal security team. But every man he had placed on the door was already on the floor, disarmed and zip-tied by Dante’s loyal soldiers.
"Dante... my brother..." Julian stammered, raising his trembling hands, trying to paste a smile over the sheer terror contorting his face. "Thank God! You're alive! We thought... the news reported an accident! We were holding this memorial to honor your memory!"
"Were you?" Dante asked smoothly, stepping up the three carpeted steps to the stage.
He stopped two feet in front of Julian. Dante was taller, broader, and even with four cracked ribs, he towered over his underboss like an iron monument.
"Funny thing about my car, Julian," Dante murmured, his voice conversational, almost pleasant. "The forensic team pulled the brake assembly from the wreckage this afternoon. They found clean, diagonal cuts on the hydraulic lines. Made with a professional titanium cutter."
Julian swallowed hard, sweat beading along his hairline, dripping into his eyes. "Sabotage... the rival families in Jersey, Dante! They must have infiltrated the garage! I will hunt them down myself! I swear it!"
"You won't have to hunt far," Dante replied.
He turned slightly, extending his hand toward me.
"Cara. Step forward."
Every gaze in the room swung toward me.
My heart was pounding against my ribs like a war drum, but I remembered what Dante had whispered to me in the car on the way into the city: “You carried my life in your hands on that mountain, little bird. Don't you dare lower your eyes for these hyenas.”
I gathered the emerald train of my gown and walked up the steps with a steady, unhurried stride. I stopped beside Dante, looking directly into the horrified, bloodshot eyes of Julian Rossi and Vanessa Moretti.
"Do you recognize her, Julian?" Dante asked softly.
Julian stared at me, his brow furrowing in desperate confusion. "I... I have never seen this woman in my life!"
"You saw her forty-eight hours ago," I spoke.
My voice was clear, ringing with the unshakeable confidence of someone who had nothing left to lose.
"At Bellini’s," I continued, pointing my wrapped hand at his face. "Booth four. Behind the mahogany screen. You wore that exact same falcon signet ring on your pinky. You sat across from Vanessa, drank two martinis with three olives, and told her that Dante’s brakes were cut just enough to fail on the descent."
Vanessa shrieked, lunging forward with her manicured nails bared like claws. "She’s a lying whore! She’s an escort Dante hired to frame us! Look at her! She’s a nobody!"
SLAP.
The sound of Dante’s open palm striking Vanessa across the face cracked through the ballroom like a gunshot.
Vanessa was knocked off her feet, collapsing against the velvet chaise lounge, clutching her reddened cheek in stunned, disbelieving horror. She stared up at her husband, tears of pure shock finally spilling over her mascara.
"You will not raise your voice to the woman who pulled your Don from a burning grave while you were picking out mourning lace," Dante said, his voice dropping into a register of cold, absolute damnation.
He turned to the silent, terrified assembly of mafia lords.
"Brothers of the Commission," Dante announced, his eyes sweeping across the frozen faces of the city’s most dangerous men. "By the ancient laws of the Cosa Nostra, the punishment for plotting against the blood of the Don is forfeiture of name, fortune, and breath."
Capo Bellini stepped forward, bowing his head deeply. "The law is absolute, Don Dante. The throne is yours. The traitors are yours to judge."
Julian broke.
In a blind, cornered frenzy, he reached inside his tuxedo jacket, pulling a snub-nosed .38 revolver from his shoulder holster. "If I'm going down, I'm taking you with me, Dante!"
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He didn't aim at Dante.
He aimed the barrel dead center at my chest.
