Chapter 7 - The Interrogation
Down in the main foyer, the air smelled heavily of cordite, gunsmoke, and freshly shattered glass.
Three heavily armed mercenaries in matte-black tactical gear lay sprawled across the marble floor, neutralised with surgical precision.
Dante stood over the last remaining intruder, his boot planted squarely on the man’s chest, pressing down hard enough to crack ribs. His own shoulder was bleeding slightly from a graze wound, staining the white fabric of his shirt crimson, but he didn't seem to notice.
"Who sent you?" Dante asked, his voice dead, low, and terrifyingly calm.
The mercenary spat a mouthful of blood onto the marble, laughing weakly. "You... you're too late, Salvatore. The package... the girl... Vance already knows."
Dante’s eyes flared with a lethal, blinding fury. He crouched down, grabbing the man by the tactical vest and lifting him off the floor with one hand.
"Vance? Marcus Vance?" Dante snarled.
"You thought you killed him at the docks three years ago," the mercenary wheezed, smiling through broken teeth. "He’s rebuilding. And he wants your bloodline erased."
Dante didn't hesitate. With a cold, brutal motion, he silenced the threat, letting the body drop back to the floor.
He spun around, sprinting up the grand staircase toward the upper-level guest suites, his pistol raised and ready.
When he reached the master bedroom, the door was blown off its hinges.
Mrs. Gable was unconscious on the carpet near the bed, but she was breathing. And the walk-in closet’s secondary steel door was still locked tight from the inside.
"Chloe," Dante called out, banging his hand twice against the steel door. Veritas.
The heavy steel door slowly swung open.
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Chloe stood in the center of the walk-in closet, holding a terrified Lily tightly in her arms, her eyes wide with shock and relief as she looked at Dante standing in the doorway, blood staining his shirt.
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