Chapter 6 - The Father's Oath
Dante walked slowly toward the guest room. The morning light filtered through the blinds, casting soft stripes across the bed where Mia lay fast asleep, clutching a plush bear one of the guards had bought for her.
He sat on the edge of the mattress, his large, scarred hand resting gently against her forehead. She stirred slightly, letting out a small, peaceful sigh.
“I’m sorry,” Dante whispered under his breath. “I missed seven years of your life. Every birthday, every scraped knee.”
Mia’s eyelids fluttered, and she peered up at him, still groggy with sleep. “Mister Dante?”
“Call me Dante, Mia.”
She smiled faintly, rubbing her nose. “Is my mommy better?”
“Much better. She’s resting downstairs.” Dante pulled the blanket tighter over her shoulders. “Mia, do you know what a promise is?”
She nodded solemnly. “A pinky promise means you can never, ever break it, or your heart turns to stone.”
Dante extended his pinky finger, rough and worn from years of street brawls and corporate wars. Mia linked her small, delicate finger around his.
“I promise you,” Dante said, his voice ringing with absolute certainty, “no one will ever hurt you or your mother again. As long as I draw breath, you are safe.”
Mia beamed, closing her eyes once more and drifting back to sleep. Dante stood up, his posture transforming from a protective father back into an apex predator.
He walked out into the corridor where Victor stood waiting with a secure tablet.
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“Vargas just sent a message through our backchannels,” Victor reported. “He wants to meet at the old industrial railyard at midnight. He wants the key to the safe-deposit box, or he’ll leak our shipping manifests to the federal prosecutors.”
Dante adjusted the gold watch on his wrist. “Tell him we accept.”
