ANTE'
pectacle, a ruthless display of pow
brought a rush every time. This time, however
e had made the call to John-the best
mpetition with brutal precision, and tonight, he
ohn didn't disappoint. As the final blow landed
ng from ear to ear. His voice was sharp with excitement
. "He thought his man could win. Poor bastard
Emilio's face, that mixture of ang
is eyes-it almost made Dante want to laugh. Almos
t ground at him. The satisfaction of seeing Emilio
re the game stayed fun-alive. He didn't want to crush Emilio completely. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
the one where Emilio had to choose. He could walk away, take the
end of it. He couldn't let Emilio leave like this-not if there was an
ways been reliable in situations like this. "Go to Emil
re already tense. Why make them worse? He wanted Emilio to come back. Wanted to see how far this
t come back. Instead, Dante found himself walkin
d rage was... satisfying. The man was pale, barely more than a shadow in that over
he low murmur of voices as Emilio spoke to the man he'd sent to fetch him And finally to
of his lips. Emilio was walking rig
eliberate, a mocking rhythm that spoke volumes. He didn
ommanding attention. He nodded toward a shadowy corner, away from
s. "Not interested," he snapped, his voice sharp.
"I don't need to convince you," he said smoothly, his
wing behind him, each movement purposeful and confident. Dante knew
tte. He flicked the lighter, the flame briefly illuminating
e dark corner. Without a word, Dante extended the cigarette toward Emilio
ed it away. "Get this off me." Dante chuckled, taking
g. "Fine. No need to be dramatic." Dante's eye
ght to it, the kind that came when Dante was
his expression darkening. "Peace doesn't come that way, not after everything that's happened," he retorted, h
But instead of the usual deflection, Dante felt a tinge of frustration stir within him. He'
rushing Dante off as if it was nothing. Emilio's irritati
, he walked away, his footsteps
his gut. Something about the man's departure didn't sit right