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“I think you’re intrigued by violence,” he said, pausing and turning to me. “I want you to see the side of me that my enemies see. I want to see if it makes you flinch.”
I bit my bottom lip. “So you want me to be more afraid of you?”
“I want you to see what happens to other people when they challenge me because it seems to be your favorite thing to do these days.”
“I’m still drawing the same conclusion. You want to scare me.”
“I want to see what you’re made of.”
He took off deeper into the kitchen, and I could do nothing but follow. If he knew the truth, he would have called me on it. He would havecertainlysaid or done something to indicate he knew about my lies.
So, I followed him. All the way into the back parts of the kitchen and then into a room that oozed cold air. I strode into it andinvoluntarily shivered, both at the sight before me and at the freezing temperatures.
A man sat in the center of the room, wearing managerial attire as he bled from a handful of cuts on his face. He groaned from where he lay on the ground, holding his stomach. Another man stood over him, bringing himself to attention as Dante approached.
“You know that I don’t like coming into people’s businesses,” Dante said, walking closer as if he owned the whole place. “But I don’t do third chances, John. Are you trying to make a fool of me?”
I tried to unravel what precisely was happening here. I stood back, taking in all the details of the room again for any more context.
“I wasn’t asking for a third chance,” John spat at Dante. A drop of blood landed an inch from his shoe, and Dante raised his brow as he took notice.
“I paid off your debts in exchange for a ten percent cut of your businesses. Are you playing me for a fool?”
“I gave you what you asked for,” John shouted.
The man beside him lifted a fist, but Dante stopped him with a slight wave of his hand. The power he showed in that gesture alone—the way he so easily commanded this man—was impressive.
John seemed to realize it, too.
“If I was short on last month’s payment…”
Dante tipped back his head and laughed. He took his time as he looked over his shoulder at me. “Now, Stellina. This man claimed that his income was only eight large last month. Last year at this time, his net profits were well over sixty a month. Does that sound like a man who was ‘short’ on a payment or a man who is trying to cheat me?”
I wouldn’t answer. I didn’t need to. From the way John looked at the ground in silent remorse, we both knew he’d fucked up.
And Dante—with his powerful body and even more powerful presence—had this middle-aged man crumpling without even raising a fist.
Power didn’t come from the ability to yell and wield pain to your advantage.
I didn’t know exactly how a man could possibly have thismuchpower, but Dante did.
It was a terrifying side, indeed. It made sense now why he was so intrigued by my lack of cooperation. I’d spent my life around men who wielded their fists as powerful weapons, both against me and others.
This was a different ballgame.
The yawning pit of arousal only expanded as I took in Dante’s easy stance. It shouldn’t have affected me this way. I’d been around dominant men my entire life, most of whom I didn’t trust or admire. But none of them had this much control over the people around them.
None of them were Dante.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Dante said, nodding to the tune of his own words. “I’m going to look through your office and find the legitimate business records. And then, for every thousand dollars you owe me, I’m going to break another bone. How does that sound?”
If there was one thing I knew for sure, Dante didn’t bluff.
John seemed to realize the same thing as a puddle of urine grew beneath his body.
10
Dante
