Chapter 4 - The Judgment of Dante
Michael’s fingers tightened instinctively around the fire poker, though his arms felt like lead. He forced a thin, trembling veneer of arrogant bravado onto his face, stepping protectively in front of his wife’s body.
“Dante—what is the meaning of this?” Michael demanded, trying to sound like the master of the house. “You’re trespassing on private property! This is a domestic matter between me and my wife. You have no jurisdiction here!”
Dante didn't answer immediately. He took two slow steps forward, his boots crunching loudly over the broken glass and spilled pocket watches.
“Domestic matter,” Dante repeated, the words tasting like poison on his tongue. He stopped three feet away from Michael, towering over him by half a head. “Is that what you call throwing my sister through a glass cabinet?”
“She slipped!” Michael lied, his voice pitching slightly upward. “She lost her balance during an argument and—”
*Crack.*
Before Michael could finish the sentence, Dante moved so fast the human eye could barely track him. His hand lashed out, catching Michael across the face with an open palm that sounded like a gunshot.
Michael staggered backward three steps, dropping the iron poker with a heavy thud, his cheek instantly turning a bruised, angry crimson. He clutched his face, staring at Dante with pure, unadulterated horror.
“Liar,” Dante whispered, his voice dangerously low. “You always were a coward who hid behind legal loopholes and closed doors. But you made one fatal mistake tonight, Michael. You forgot who put that roof over your head in the first place.”
“I’m a partner in Moretti Holdings!” Michael screamed, panic finally breaking through his composure as he backed away toward the grand staircase. “You can’t touch me! The board will—!”
“The board doesn't exist anymore,” Dante cut him off coldly. “As of forty-eight minutes ago, every single share you held in Moretti Holdings has been seized, liquidated, and transferred to an overseas account under Victoria’s exclusive name. You are a pauper, Michael. A homeless, penniless parasite standing in a house you no longer own.”
Michael’s knees buckled slightly. All his wealth, all his social status, all his carefully hoarded power—wiped out in less than an hour.
May you like
“As for what you did in this foyer,” Dante continued, turning his gaze away from Michael down toward little Mia, who was now being gently lifted into the arms of one of the tactical guards, “that’s between you, me, and the men outside.”
---
