Page 56 of His Bride

He lunges at me, but I’m ready. I sidestep, letting him stumble past. Amateur.

“You’ll regret this, Dante,” he snarls, righting himself. “I’ll burn everything you love to the ground.”

I smile, cold and deadly. “You can try. But remember, Lorenzo - I don’t play with fire. I am the fire.”

The air crackles with tension as we circle each other, two predators waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Lorenzo’s eyes narrow, and I see the exact moment he decides to attack. I’m already moving as he lunges, his fist grazing my jaw. The pain narrowly registers as adrenaline surges through me.

I drive my elbow into his ribs, feeling the satisfying crunch of bone. Lorenzo grunts but doesn’t back down. We grapple, crashing into the massage table. It splinters beneath our combined weight.

“Is this the best you’ve got, Rossi?” Lorenzo taunts, blood trickling from his split lip.

I don’t waste breath on a reply. Instead, I slam my forehead into his nose. The crunch is music to my ears.

We roll across the floor, trading blows. My knuckles split as they connect with his jaw. His knee drives into my stomach, forcing the air from my lungs.

The fight is brutal, primal. We’re no longer mafia bosses, just two men intent on destroying each other.

I think of Adriana as I dodge a wild swing. Her face, her smile. The way she looked at our wedding, beautiful. I’ll end this threat to her, to us, once and for all.

Lorenzo’s fist catches me in the temple. Stars explode in my vision. I stumble, tasting copper.

“Not so tough now, are you?” Lorenzo pants, circling me like a shark.

I spit blood onto the pristine tile floor. “I’m just getting started.”

I analyze Lorenzo’s movements, searching for weaknesses. His left shoulder droops slightly - an old injury I’d heard whispers about. Perfect.

“Your father would be ashamed,” I goad, watching his eyes flash with rage.

Lorenzo charges, exactly as I’d hoped. I sidestep, driving my fist into his weak shoulder. He howls in pain, stumbling.

“You know nothing of my father!” he snarls, swinging wildly.

I duck under his arm, landing a sharp uppercut to his jaw. “I know he’d be disgusted by your pathetic attempt to steal what’s mine.”

Lorenzo’s face contorts with fury. Good. An angry opponent is a careless one.

He lunges again, but I’m ready. I grab his arm, using his momentum to slam him into the wall. Plaster cracks. A framed painting crashes to the floor.

“Once I kill you, I’m going to have so much fun with your little whore wife Adriana,” Lorenzo growls, struggling to break free.

My vision goes red. I twist his arm behind his back, hearing tendons strain. “You so much as think her name again, and I’ll cut out your tongue.”

Lorenzo headbutts me, breaking my hold. We stumble apart, both breathing heavily.

“Face it, Dante,” he pants, “You’re losing your edge. The Rossi empire is crumbling.”

I wipe blood from my eye, forcing a cold smile. “Then why are you the one who can barely stand?”

We crash through the spa doors, stumbling into the dimly lit hallway.

Lorenzo grabs a potted plant, hurling it at my head. I duck, hearing it shatter against the wall behind me.

“You can’t protect her,” he taunts, backing towards the sauna. “Adriana deserves better than a monster like you.”

His words cut deeper than any blade. Images of Adriana flash through my mind - her gentle smile, her soft touch. The thought of losing her…