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The Ex-Fiancé You Can't Afford To Lose
img img The Ex-Fiancé You Can't Afford To Lose img Chapter 2
2 Chapters
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Chapter 2

Dante POV

The penthouse was quiet.

It was a different kind of silence than the one I was used to. usually, my mornings were filled with the buzzing of phones, the logistics of moving millions of dollars of product across state lines, and Serena's voice asking me to fix her problems.

Today, there was only the hum of the air conditioner.

I stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, surveying the city. It had been forty-eight hours since the gala.

I had spent those hours doing absolutely nothing.

And that was the weapon.

"Boss," Marco said, walking into the living room. He was holding a tablet. "It's starting."

I took a sip of my espresso. "Show me."

Marco tapped the screen. "The Vitiello logistics network."

The screen was a sea of red.

"They have three shipments of electronics stuck in customs in Jersey," Marco said. "The port authority is asking for the encryption keys to verify the manifests."

"And?"

"And Luca doesn't have the keys," Marco said, a dark smirk playing on his lips. "Because you changed the daily algorithm every morning at 6 AM."

I nodded. It wasn't a kill switch. I wasn't that dramatic. It was a safety protocol. The System I built required a daily handshake, a manual code entry that verified the user was me. It was designed to protect the family in case I was kidnapped.

If I didn't enter the code, the system locked down. It encrypted everything to protect the data from the FBI.

To the outside world, it looked like a glitch. To the Vitiello family, it looked like a heart attack.

"They are trying to bypass it," Marco said. "Luca hired some kid from MIT."

I chuckled. "Good luck."

The phone on my desk buzzed.

It was a burner number. But I knew who it was.

I let it ring.

It rang four times. Five.

I picked it up on the last ring.

"Cavallaro Security Solutions," I said. My new company's name.

"Dante?"

Serena's voice was tight. High-pitched. She was panicking.

"Hello, Serena."

"What did you do?" she demanded. She didn't say hello. She didn't ask how I was. She went straight to the accusation.

"I am having coffee," I said. "What did you do?"

"Stop playing games!" she screamed. "The shipments are frozen. The accounts are flagged. The bank is asking for the compliance codes for the IPO funds. Luca tried to access the offshore server and it locked him out."

"Sounds like a technical issue," I said. "You should ask your Underboss to fix it. He is the future, right?"

"Dante, fix it. Now."

"I am afraid I can't do that," I said, leaning back in my leather chair. "I don't work for you. In fact, according to the papers your lawyers sent over yesterday, I have been terminated with cause."

"You are hurting the family!"

"I am not family, Serena. You made that very clear when you kissed him."

There was a silence on the line. I could hear her breathing. Shallow, ragged breaths.

"Dante, please," she said, her voice dropping an octave. She was switching tactics. The Donna was gone; the damsel was back. "We can talk about this. Luca... Luca doesn't understand the system like you do."

"Clearly."

"Come to the office. Just for an hour. Help us unlock the accounts. We can negotiate a consulting fee."

I looked at the tablet. The red warnings were multiplying. The FBI had just flagged a suspicious container in Miami. The clock was ticking.

"I charge a premium for consulting," I said.

"Anything," she said.

"I want an apology."

"Done," she said quickly. Too quickly. "I am sorry. Okay? I am sorry."

"Not from you," I said. "From him."

I waited.

"He won't do it," she whispered.

"Then you better hope he learns how to code in the next twenty minutes," I said. "Because once the Feds crack that first container, the RICO charges start dropping."

"Dante, wait!"

I hung up.

I pulled the SIM card out of the phone and dropped it into my coffee.

Marco watched me, his eyes wide.

"We are just going to let them burn?" he asked.

I looked out the window. The city looked peaceful from up here.

"They lit the match, Marco," I said. "I am just refusing to hold the hose."

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