C136 Don't You Hurt Him

Mikhail steadied himself after the first punch, his boots digging into the gravel of the driveway to keep him upright. His jaw ached where Dante’s fist had connected, and he tasted the metallic tang of blood in his mouth.

Blinking through the sharp sting, he locked eyes with Dante, whose own gaze burned with unrestrained fury. Mikhail said nothing. His respect for the man, his loyalty to everything they had built, kept him silent.

But that silence seemed to inflame Dante even more.

Another punch came fast and brutal. Mikhail staggered back but caught himself just in time. His head snapped to the side, and his vision blurred for a moment. The murmurs around them were low and tense, a hum of disbelief vibrating through the air.

“Say something!” Dante roared. His voice, raw and jagged, echoed off the mansion walls.

Mikhail wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing blood across his skin. His heart pounded like a war drum, and his temper, long buried beneath weeks of frustration and confusion, broke free. Without thinking, he launched his fist at Dante’s face.

The collective gasp of the men around them sucked the air from the space. Time seemed to freeze as the impact landed squarely on Dante’s jaw.

Dante’s lips curled into a dangerous smile, one that promised retribution. “You’ve finally found your spine, eh, Mikhail?” His tone was deceptively calm, but his eyes gleamed with a feral intensity. “Good. Let’s see if you can keep it.”

He turned to the gathering crowd, his voice dropping into a deadly growl. “Anyone who dares intervene,” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear, “I’ll put a bullet through their skull.”

The threat hung heavily in the air, silencing any potential voices of reason.

Then Dante lunged.

The impact of his shoulder drove Mikhail backward, and the two men collided in a flurry of fists. Dante swung with precision and fury, each blow landing with the force of a sledgehammer. Mikhail countered with his own punches, throwing every ounce of frustration and pent-up emotion into his hits.

“You’re a fucking traitor!” Dante snarled as his knuckles connected with Mikhail’s ribs, forcing a sharp grunt of pain from him.

“And you’re a cold bastard who wouldn’t know loyalty if it punched you in the face!” Mikhail spat back, delivering a strike to Dante’s stomach that barely seemed to faze him.

Dante laughed harshly, blood dripping from his split lip. “Loyalty? You’ve got the balls to talk about loyalty?” His fist crashed into Mikhail’s temple, sending stars exploding across his vision. “You’re a spineless idiot who stands by while our family burns!”

The words cut deeper than the punches. Mikhail’s temper flared hotter, his voice rising above the thud of fists and laboured breaths. “You don’t even know what you’ve got until it’s gone, you pompous fool!” he shouted, his voice cracking under the weight of his anger. “You didn’t deserve Isabella, and you don’t deserve Annabelle!”

Dante froze for a split second, the mention of Annabelle and Isabella slicing through the haze of his rage. But it wasn’t hesitation—it was fuel.

“You dare—” Dante’s voice dropped to a guttural snarl as he swung with a force that sent Mikhail crashing to the ground.

Blow after blow rained down, brutal and unrelenting. Dante’s fists moved like pistons, each hit harder than the last. Blood pooled beneath Mikhail as he struggled to stay conscious. His vision dimmed, and he could hear the muffled gasps and whispers of the men surrounding them.

“Enough!” Angelo’s voice cut through the chaos, his strong hands gripping Dante’s shoulders as he tried to pull him back. “Dante, he’s had enough!”

Dante’s breath came in ragged bursts, his chest heaving as he shrugged Angelo off. The fury in his eyes hadn’t dimmed. He reached for Angelo’s gun, yanking it free from its holster in one swift motion.

A collective murmur of panic rippled through the men. Mikhail braced himself, his head spinning as he stared down the barrel of the gun pointed directly at him.

“Dante, no!”

Annabelle’s scream tore through the air, high and desperate. Mikhail’s gaze flicked up to see her leaning out of an upstairs window, her hair disheveled, her eyes wide with fear. “Don’t you dare hurt him!” she shouted, her voice breaking.

Dante’s hand trembled, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked as though it might snap. His eyes met Annabelle’s, and for a brief moment, something flickered in their depths—shock, pain, something that no one else could see.

He lowered the gun, but the fury didn’t leave his face.

“Get off my property,” Dante spat, his voice cold and venomous. He stepped back, his gaze still locked on Mikhail. “And don’t you ever show your face here again.”

Mikhail struggled to his feet, pain coursing through every inch of his battered body. His voice was hoarse, but he couldn’t resist one final retort. “If she wants me, you won’t stop me from being with her.”

Dante’s lips twisted into a grim smile. “Then I’ll make sure you never have the chance.”

He turned to the gathered men, his voice ringing out like a decree. “From this moment forward, the Virellis are no longer under my protection. Let the chips fall where they may.”

The words hit Mikhail harder than any of Dante’s punches. Staggering, he pushed Sal’s helping hands away and limped toward his car.

Just as he reached it, the sound of another vehicle cut through the heavy silence. Antonia’s car pulled up, and she stepped out with a wide smile. “Dante!” she exclaimed, rushing forward as if she seen the aftermath of a war.

Mikhail didn’t move, his gaze cutting through her excitement like a blade. “If you’re still a Virelli,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, “you’ll turn around and leave with me now.”

Antonia’s smile faltered, her confusion clear. “What are you talking about?”

Dante’s voice rose, his next words meant for everyone to hear. “The Virellis are no longer tied to me. Leave, and don’t come back.”

The weight of his words settled over them all, and Mikhail felt the last shred of his loyalty crumble.

As Antonia’s face twisted in shock, he turned away and climbed into his car, his mind reeling.