Chapter 13 - Orion's Revenge
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The grandfather clock in the corner of the penthouse struck nine in the evening with heavy, ominous chimes.
Outside the vast panoramic windows, a torrential rain lashed against the glass, blurring the skyline into streaks of neon light.
I sat alone on the velvet sofa in the grand living room, wearing a simple white silk blouse and dark trousers.
Orion lay beside the sofa, his head resting between his paws, but his ears remained fully alert to every microscopic sound.
A soft, muffled click sounded from the private elevator foyer.
The heavy double mahogany doors slowly swung inward on oiled hinges.
Enzo Rossi stepped into the penthouse, flanked by four heavily armed mercenaries carrying suppressed submachine guns.
Enzo wore a tailored charcoal wool coat and expensive Italian leather gloves, his gray hair neatly combed back.
In his right hand, he held a sleek chrome revolver equipped with a carbon-fiber silencer.
"Good evening, little Elena," Enzo purred, his voice dripping with condescending pity.
I didn't flinch, keeping my hands resting calmly in my lap.
"Mr. Rossi," I said coolly.
"I didn't expect you to visit without Dante."
Enzo chuckled, a dry, rattling sound that made my skin crawl.
"Dante is dying on an operating table in Queens, my dear."
"His reign over this city ended the moment that rocket struck his motorcade."
"Did you hire Romano to do that, Enzo?" I asked, keeping my tone steady to prolong the conversation.
"Romano was always an impatient dog," Enzo sneered, stepping closer into the center of the living room.
"Julian was too noble for his own good, babbling about honor and legacy while millions of dollars slipped through his fingers."
"I gave Julian thirty years of faithful service, and he planned to leave seventy percent of the empire to a seven-year-old girl!"
Enzo raised the chrome revolver, leveling the barrel directly at my forehead.
"I should have made sure you burned with him in that cellar fifteen years ago."
"Leaving loose ends has always been my greatest flaw."
"Fortunately, I am about to rectify that mistake tonight."
Suddenly, Orion stood up.
He didn't whine or bark.
His massive, midnight-black frame rose with terrifying, supernatural grace, his lips pulling back to reveal lethal, glistening fangs.
Enzo glanced at the dog, a cruel smirk playing on his thin lips.
"Shoot that damn beast first," Enzo commanded his men.
Before the mercenaries could even lift their suppressed rifles, the living room doors behind the partition blew off their hinges with a deafening crash.
Dante stepped into the room like an avenging god of war, an assault rifle tucked tightly against his shoulder.
"Drop your weapons!" Dante roared, his voice shaking the crystal chandeliers.
Enzo's eyes widened in sheer, paralyzing horror as he realized he had walked into an inescapable slaughterhouse.
"Kill them!" Enzo shrieked, swinging his revolver toward Dante.
Orion didn't wait.
Despite the fresh bandages covering his injured shoulder, the colossal hound launched himself through the air with ferocious speed.
Orion slammed all hundred and forty pounds of his muscular body straight into Enzo's chest, driving the old traitor violently into the marble floor.
Orion's massive jaws clamped down onto Enzo's gun arm with bone-crushing force.
A bloodcurdling scream of agony ripped from Enzo's throat as the chrome revolver clattered uselessly across the polished floor.
Simultaneously, Dante's concealed snipers burst from the walls, taking down the four mercenaries with clinical, surgical efficiency before a single shot could be fired.
Dante marched across the marble floor, kicking the fallen revolver away and planting the heavy sole of his boot onto Enzo's chest.
"Good boy, Orion," Dante commanded softly.
"Stand down."
Orion released Enzo's crushed wrist, stepping back to stand proudly beside me, licking a spot of blood from his jowls.
Enzo lay weeping and clutching his mangled arm, staring up at Dante with petrified terror.
"Dante... please... we were brothers..." Enzo sobbed pitifully.
"Julian was your brother, Enzo," Dante replied, his voice dropping into a register of pure, frigid ice.
"And you sold him for thirty pieces of silver."
Dante raised his sidearm, but I stood up and laid a gentle hand on his tense forearm.
Dante looked at me, the murderous rage in his gray eyes pausing.
"Don't give him an easy death, Dante," I said, looking down at the groveling traitor with cold disgust.
"Let the federal prosecutor have him."
"Let him spend the rest of his pathetic life in a six-by-eight concrete cage, watching Julian's daughter take back everything he stole."
Dante's jaw clenched, and then a slow, dark smile broke across his handsome face.
"As you wish, Elena."
He looked down at his guards.
May you like
"Bag him and deliver him to the FBI field office with the encrypted ledger."
"And tell them Don Moretti sends his regards."
