Chapter 6 - COLLATERAL DAMAGE
The news of the cathedral shootout hit the underground like an earthquake.
Back at the compound, Alara was confined to the safest rooms of the house. But safety was an illusion when the danger came from the inside.
At midnight, a black sedan pulled up to the outer gates. The guards recognized the passenger: Victor Voss, Alara’s father.
Dante had him brought to the underground bunker beneath the estate, a room soundproofed and devoid of windows. When Alara insisted on being there, Dante tried to refuse, but the newfound fire in her eyes made him reconsider.
Victor was shivering, sweating profusely despite the chill in the air.
“Dante, please,” Victor begged as Dante and Alara walked in. “Caruso is threatening my life! He says if I don’t deliver Alara to him, he’ll kill me!”
Alara stared at the man who had raised her. She had spent her entire life trying to be the perfect daughter, hoping it would earn her an ounce of his protection. Seeing him now, begging a mafia boss to trade her back to her abuser to save his own skin, broke the last chain binding her to him.
“You came here to sell me out again,” Alara whispered.
Victor looked at her, his eyes pleading. “Alara, sweetie, be reasonable. Dante can't win this war. If you just go back to Vincent and explain—”
Dante moved so fast it was a blur. He grabbed Victor by the throat and slammed him against the concrete wall. Victor gagged, his face turning purple.
“Dante, wait!” Alara yelled.
Dante stopped, his muscles tight, waiting for her command.
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Alara stepped forward, looking her father dead in the eye. “You are no longer my father. I have no family named Voss. If you ever come near me, or my husband, again, I will pull the trigger myself.”
She turned and walked out of the room. Dante dropped Victor like a sack of garbage. “Put him on a plane to Europe,” Dante told his men. “If he ever steps foot in North America again, shoot him on sight.”
