Page 258 of Rosetti Family New York
Not a soul in sight. Dom made sure we'd have the place to ourselves by shutting it down for the day. Just me and Dale fucking Callahan, the kind of scum who doesn't deserve to breathe the same air.
His footsteps echo through the vast emptiness as he crosses the space, making his way toward the center where I'm waiting. The overhead fluorescents flicker in time with my heartbeat, bathing everything in harsh, cold light.
Dale grins. "Well, shit. Look who finally called. Thought you were ghosting me, Rosetti."
"I needed quiet. This place is perfect," I respond flatly.
Dale laughs. "Still got that dramatic flair. What's the deal? You gonna ask me to square up for old time's sake?"
"This isn't nostalgia. It's an execution."
Dale's grin falters for the first time. Realization dawns on his stupid face like a light bulb switching on. I enjoy every second of it. One of his hands goes to his pocket, fast, like he's scrambling for something that will bail him out of this mess. Phone? Gun? Nope, he left both of those with Domenico at the front door. Club rules, and all that.
It's almost pathetic, seeing him sweat. The cockiness drains out of him, and he stands there, frozen. His eyes dart around the room, desperate, calculating his odds. They're not good.
More footsteps as the cavalry arrives. Domenico is posted at the door. Matteo and Emilio show their faces, emerging, ready to close in if he makes a break for it. Leonardo crosses over and leans against the bar. Four massive tattooed guys with bad fucking attitudes. Plus me, the worst of the lot.
Dale's never seen the family like this, and he's gotta be wishing he didn't now.
"Shit," he says. "A whole reunion, huh? Can't believe you brought the gang."
He's trying for smooth, but he can't pull it off. Leo pours shots, lines them up along the bar, one for each brother. For after.
"Careful," I tell Dale, dragging up a chair. "Wouldn't want to spill any secrets."
"Thought we had all this shit worked out, Rosetti," he says, gesturing to the fight ring. "You bring me all the way down here to renegotiate?"
"Call it a final offer. Compensation for lost funds."
I smile, showing him the edge of my teeth.
We started this fight ring as a joint effort between families. The Callahans managing the cash, and us Rosettis running the show. A peace offering. A way to get us all rich. And he's gone and ruined everything. Cut the Rosettis out of the profits. Played us for fools.
Dale looks around, measuring his chances. Trying to act casual, like he's not cornered.
He fakes a grin, scratches his neck. He doesn't know I've been watching him like a hawk, and he thinks he can talk his way out of it. The dumb fuck.
He leans against the edge of a table, crossing his arms like we're just two old buddies catching up.
"You insult me, Rafe, if you think I'd steal from you. Remember juvie? C'mon. We're tighter than this."
"Not anymore."
I let him hear the bite in my voice.
I stand up and step forward.
"You skimmed from me. From my ring. You laundered money through Maddy's name. You signed her death certificate."
Sloane's face flashes in my mind – her eyes filled with grief, searching for answers, desperate to know the truth about her friend. My focus sharpens, my rage crystallizes into something colder, more precise than usual. This isn't just about business anymore. It's about her. About giving her the closure she deserves.
Dale scoffs. "You don't know the whole story."
I remain dead calm. "I know enough. Lucas told me everything."
Frantic now, Dale spins around. A flicker of panic crosses his face as he shifts his weight, searching for exits. But there aren't any. Every exit is covered by a Rosetti. He's hedged in tight, and he knows it. I watch him, knowing exactly what's going on in his useless head.
He looks to the front and sees Dom standing solid, all muscles and crossed arms.
