C88 For Good

Dante leaned back in his leather chair.

His dark eyes fixed through his binoculars on the city lights stretching endlessly beyond the window of his study.

The skyline of Acadia was alive.

It was ripe with neon flickers, muted hums of distant traffic, and the occasional wail of a siren.

It was a scene he’d looked at a thousand times before, but tonight it felt like a hollow echo of itself.

He adjusted his binoculars and changed the direction of the view.

This was an act he had started a while ago.

Scanning his environment in case there was any idiot who might think of sneaking up on his fortress.

He knew only a fool who was done with life would try that, but he looked anyway.

Then at times he just did it for the sake of viewing.

His fingers traced the cool rim of a glass tumbler on the desk.

He blandly stared at the untouched amber whiskey.

He had barely slept in two days.

He had been throwing himself into work to smother the relentless pull in his chest.

It hadn’t worked.

Every spare moment, his mind drifted back to her.

Annabelle.

She haunted him.

Her fierce gaze and the way her lips tightened when she was angry.

His mind wouldn’t let go of the rare moments when her guard dropped to reveal the vulnerability she tried so hard to hide.

She had worked her way into his thoughts.

And into his very blood in a way that no one else ever had.

Dante exhaled sharply and pushed himself to his feet.

His black shirt clung to his broad shoulders, the sleeves rolled up to reveal strong forearms.

The cuffs of his charcoal-grey trousers brushed against the polished wood floor as he paced.

The room around him was a study in dark elegance.

Mahogany shelves are lined with books.

A heavy desk with sleek metal accents and a low-burning fireplace cast a warm glow.

Every other thing that had made the room a bit more cheery before was gone now.

Every trace of Isabella was wiped away.

Just as her portrait that had hung in Dante’s office for a while had been tossed away

The urge to get in his car and drive straight to Annabelle was maddening.

He could bring her and her family back here to where they belonged.

Where he could keep them safe.

But he clenched his fists and forced himself to stop.

She needed time.

He’d promised himself he’d give her that.

Even if it went against every instinct in his body, he would wait.

He wanted Annabelle to know he could be patient and reasonable.

But there was a limit to his restraint.

Soon, he’d go back for her. Whether she hated him or not, she’d be close to him.

At least then, he could protect her properly.

A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. “Come in,” he called, his voice rougher than he intended.

Angelo entered, his usual sharp expression softened with curiosity. “You’ve been pacing like a caged animal all night, boss. I think you are scaring the staff now. What’s going on?”

Dante shot him a look but didn’t answer right away.

He poured himself a measure of whiskey and downed it in one go before turning back to Angelo. “Nothing.”

Angelo smirked. “Nothing? I’ve known you too long for that. Let me guess…this is about Annabelle.”

Dante’s jaw tightened. “She needs time.”

“She needs you,” Angelo said, leaning against the desk. “But you’re too damn stubborn to admit it.”

Dante’s lips twitched in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “She made it clear she wanted me gone.”

“And since when do you take no for an answer?”

The tension in the room was thick, but Dante couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped him. “She’s different.”

Before Angelo could respond, his phone buzzed.

He glanced at the screen, his brow furrowing. “It’s our source. They’ve got something.”

Dante straightened, his dark eyes narrowing. “What is it?”

“Tad,” Angelo said grimly. “He’s been spotted in Acadia.”

A storm of emotions brewed inside Dante at the mention of that name.

Anger, protectiveness, and something cold and dangerous. “Where?”

Angelo hesitated. “I’ll take a team and…”

“No.” Dante’s voice was sharp, final. “This is my business to deal with.”

Angelo frowned. “You don’t have to…”

“I said no.” Dante’s tone left no room for argument.

The meeting point was a dimly lit alley in the heart of Acadia.

The kind of place where shadows stretched long and danger lingered in the air.

Dante stepped out of his sleek black car, his coat billowing slightly in the cool night breeze.

His men flanked him, silent and alert, their dark suits blending into the shadows.

Tad was there, leaning casually against a wall as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

His greasy blond hair caught the faint light of a flickering streetlamp, and his smirk was the kind that begged to be wiped off his face.

He was certainly expecting Dante’s source, who had told him he had information about what he was looking for.

So, surprise showed on his face when he saw Dante, but he quickly masked it with an insolent look.

“The bastard has some guts, I will give him that.” Dante thought, even as his first urge to ponce on the idiot and tear him apart was high.

“Cazador,” Tad drawled, pushing off the wall. “To what do I owe the honour?”

Dante’s expression was unreadable, but his eyes burned with restrained fury. “You know exactly why I’m here.”

Tad shrugged, feigning innocence. “I’ve done nothing wrong. Just minding my own business.”

“Cut the crap,” Dante said, his voice low and deadly. “You’ve been sniffing around Acadia. I warned you once to stay away from Annabelle and her family. I hear you want to know who I am and how you can get Annabelle away from me. Well, here I am.”

Tad’s smirk widened. “Annabelle, huh? She’s got a way of making men lose their minds, doesn’t she?”

The words were barely out of his mouth before Dante’s fist connected with his jaw.

Tad stumbled back, clutching his face.

“Watch your mouth,” Dante growled.

Tad wiped at the blood on his lips, his eyes gleaming with defiance. “You think you can scare me? You’re nothing but a thug in a suit.”

Dante’s men moved forward, ready to intervene, but he held up a hand to stop them. “Take him,” he said coldly. “We’ll finish this somewhere more private.”

Before they could grab him, the sound of gunfire erupted.

The sharp crack echoed through the alley, and chaos ensued.

Dante’s men moved quickly, drawing their weapons and shielding him.

Tad doved and bolted into the night.

“Dammit!” Dante swore, his gaze following Tad’s retreating figure.

“Boss, are you okay?” one of his men asked, his voice tense.

Dante nodded, his jaw clenched. “We’ll find him,” he said, his voice a promise.

As the commotion died down, Dante stood in the middle of the alley with his coat dusted with debris from the skirmish.

His thoughts drifted back to Annabelle, to the promise he’d made to himself.

He’d give her time.

But if Tad thought he could come near her again, Dante would make sure time ran out.

For good.