EMILIO'S POV
"Send for my consigliere," Emilio muttered under his breath, his voice tight with the weight of his decision. His eyes never left Dante as he spoke, knowing that Dante was watching every movement closely.
Dante, with his signature smirk, leaned back in his chair, unbothered, clearly enjoying the tension in the room.
He lifted the black communication device and gave a quick order to one of his guards outside. Emilio's gaze followed Dante's fingers as they danced across the screen.
He needed to make a quick decision about the duel. And if that decision was a wise one.
The room was silent for a moment as Ramon's shoe echoed against the polished floor as he entered.
Emilio turned to Ramon, and leaned in close, lowering his voice just enough to be heard over the low hum of the room.
"Ramon," he whispered, his words sharp and heavy with uncertainty. "What should I do? Should I fight, or should I let my men handle this?"
Ramon's eyes were calm, calculating as ever. He looked at Emilio for a long moment before speaking, his voice low and measured.
"You don't have to lower yourself to Dante's game, Emilio," Ramon said. "You don't need to get your hands dirty. Let your men fight for you. Show him that you're above this petty challenge."
Emilio nodded, his thoughts aligning with Ramon's advice. It made sense. He didn't have to get caught in the muck of this duel, but he still needed to show Dante he wouldn't back down. His men would fight, not him. That would send a message.
He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving Dante. "I won't fight like a dog, Dante," he said, his voice cold and clear. "But I'll have my men do the fighting."
Dante's smirk grew wider. "I knew you'd see things my way," he said, leaning forward with a sharp look in his eyes.
Emilio stared back at Dante, his fists clenched. "I'm not here to follow your rules," he said, his voice calm but firm. "You can try to control the situation, but don't think I'll let you."
He stood his ground, making it clear he wasn't intimidated.
But then, Dante's tone shifted, his words cutting deeper. "You don't make your decisions by yourself, Emilio. You've got people telling you what to do, don't you? Your men. Your advisors." He leaned in even closer, his gaze almost mocking. "Seems like you're just a puppet with a nice name."
Emilio's stomach tightened. His fists clenched at his sides, and anger burned through him. The urge to punch Dante's smug face was nearly overwhelming. Dante was pushing hard, he was testing his limits.
"I don't need anyone to tell me what to do, Dante," Emilio said through gritted teeth. His voice was cold, and controlled, but the anger steaming beneath it was impossible to ignore. "I make my own decisions. Don't think you can manipulate me."
Dante's smirk deepened, but there was no humor in it. "Sure, Emilio," he said, his voice low and threatening now. "But you're not fooling anyone. Everyone knows that you're not the one pulling the strings."
Emilio's heart raced. He couldn't let Dante see him falter. He wasn't just defending himself anymore—he was defending everything he'd built. His family's empire, and his father's legacy. He couldn't let Dante take that from him.
The words stung, but Emilio refused to let Dante see his weakness. His jaw tightened, his muscles tense as he fought to control his emotions. "You think you know me, Dante?" Emilio said coldly, his voice laced with fury. "I make my own decisions. I don't need anyone to tell me what to do."
Dante watched him, his smirk never fading. "Sure, Emilio. But you're not as independent as you think."
Emilio's mind raced, but he held his ground. "I'll send my men, but I'm not afraid of you. Don't mistake my silence for weakness."
Dante leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. He was enjoying this. He was enjoying seeing him struggle. It was clear in the way his eyes gleamed with satisfaction.
Dante shrugged casually. "We'll see how it plays out."
"Fine," Emilio said, his voice hard. "We'll do it tonight. In your ring."
Emilio's heart raced. Every part of him wanted to attack, to show Dante that he was wrong, but he held back. Instead, he locked eyes with him, determined not to show weakness.
Every part of him hid the part of the uncertainty crawling through his mind.
He stood to leave as Dante called out to him.
"Tonight, Emilio. Don't keep me waiting."
Emilio paused for a moment, then turned back to face him. "You think you can just decide everything?" he spat.
Dante's smirk never swayed. "I'm giving you the chance to prove yourself. Your men will fight, right?"
Emilio clenched his jaw. "Fine. We'll see who comes out on top."
He turned and walked out, Ramon following closely behind.
Dante had pushed him to the edge, but Emilio wouldn't back down. This was his fight now.
Emilio's heart was pounding as he walked away from Dante, the pressurein the air thickening with every step. His mind raced, but one thought lingered: What if this was a mistake?
Ramon stayed close, his silence as unsettling as ever. Emilio could feel the weight of the decision pressing down on him with every footstep. This wasn't just about a duel. This was about control. About his family's power.
As they reached the door to exit the underground, Emilio paused. A cold shiver ran down his spine, a sudden, nagging feeling he couldn't shake.
What if his men weren't strong enough? What if this was all part of Dante's plan?
As they neared the door, Dante's voice broke through the silence, smooth and confident, like a shadow following them.
"I always win. Emilio. Come with your best man"
The words hung in the air, sending a chill down Emilio's spine. The door clicked shut behind them, but Dante's voice remained, echoing in the back of Emilio's mind.