The unstoppable Dante

Minutes later, the sirens screamed as a convoy of police cars surrounded the building. Dante stood there, handcuffed, still reeling from what he'd just done. His mind was blur. He had avenged his mother, but now, standing here in the aftermath, everything felt surreal.

Lucas stood a few feet away, his face twisted with shock and anger. Mia, his girlfriend, leaned on his shoulder, her expression grim as she watched the unfolding chaos. She kept glancing at Dante, her eyes filled with doubt, unsure whether to feel relief or fear.

The police officer approached Dante, his face a mix of sympathy and professionalism. "Sorry Mr Dante," he said, looking at the handcuffs, "we're sorry for what happened. You're free to go."

Dante blinked, utterly confused. "What? I... I don't understand. What do you mean, I'm free to go?" He looked at the officer, his brow furrowing.

"The evidence... it's not what it seems. We found no handprints on the objects used on the deceased. There's no solid proof linking you to this." The officer's voice was low, but there was an odd sincerity in his tone. "You're not being detained. We won't be holding you."

Lucas, who had been standing in stunned silence, shook his head. "What do you mean there's no proof?!" His voice was rising, a mix of disbelief and anger. "I know damn well it was Dante who killed my father! I saw the blood, I saw his hands—"

The officer held up a hand, cutting him off. "Sir, you need to be careful with accusations. False accusations could lead you straight to jail, and we don't need to be part of that." He turned to Dante, his face softening. "You're free to go, but... make sure you don't get tangled up in anything else. This is all strange, but we're not pursuing it further."

Dante stared at the officer for a moment, his hands still trembling slightly. Then, the officer gave him a final nod, and with a flash of confusion on his face, he stepped aside.

Dante, still processing what had just transpired, glanced over at Lucas. The look in Lucas's eyes was one of fury, the deep, burning desire for revenge. Dante couldn't help but smirk.

As Dante started to turn away, several men in black suits entered the room. They bowed low, their eyes respectfully trained on him. The leader of the group stepped forward, his voice calm but authoritative. "Master Dante, as per the code, we now serve you. From this moment on, we follow your command."

Dante's smirk deepened as he ran his fingers through his hair, shoving it back in a slow, deliberate motion. "Good," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I like this." He turned his gaze to Lucas, whose glare was cold, burning with hatred.

"You're gonna regret this," Lucas muttered, his fists clenched at his sides, eyes flicking between Dante and the men in black.

Dante blew a kiss at Lucas, his smirk widening. "I'm unstoppable now, Lucas. Nothing can touch me." He gave one last look to his cousin, seeing the revenge that gleamed in his eyes, and he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction.

Meanwhile, Lucas's mind was racing. He knew that Dante had no idea who was truly behind the plot that led to his mother's death. The phone messages... the exchanges with Dr. Mark Williams. It was all coming together now. Lucas had used his father's phone to communicate with the doctor, to set the wheels in motion for Dante's mother to be taken out. The truth about Dante's involvement—if only Dante knew.

Lucas's hands tightened into fists, and a dark thought crept into his mind. It's time to pay blood with blood. He couldn't let Dante walk away with everything. No. This was far from over. Lucas had his own plan brewing, and Dante would soon realize the cost of what he'd done.

As Dante stepped out of the building, the Mafia Overload System flashed before him with a new mission. The screen read:

Mission: Kidnap Dr. Mark Williams.

Reward: $500,000.

Upgrade: Higher-ranking soldier.

The weight of the mission settled on Dante's shoulders, and despite everything—despite the blood on his hands, despite the coldness that had settled in his chest—he couldn't help but feel a sense of power surge through him. This was his world now. And nobody, not even Lucas, was going to stand in his way.

As Dante looked back one final time at Lucas, he whispered to himself, "It's my turn now."