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2024-10-29 19:42:56The question almost brought Dante Bianchi to his knees.
Who. Was. This. Woman?So direct, so perfect, so how this night was supposed to end. He did not ask any questions of his own. He only told her where. Dante did what he often did when faced with surprises: he maintained his cool. He tipped the waiter who had attended to them, graciously, and ushered her outside where Imani waited at the wheel of the jeep; he made small talk and intermixed his fingers with hers as they made the walk towards the car.Never mind the cool demeanor he maintained outside, inside of his head, his instincts were knife sharp, focused at one goal: take this beautiful woman back to the expanse of his house and if he was fortunate enough this night, all things considered, get her in his bed.He let Jackie climb into the back seat and followed after her, instead of sitting up front with Imani as he often did when he did not like the feeling of being boss, of being trapped in a vacuum. All
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Dante's Fire Jackie: Chapter Eighty Two
JACKIE‘Fuck,' Dante cursed when he touched her and found that she had come without panties. The word had never been more vulgar. It rolled off his tongue, sweet and wet, and nestled in the heated air between them. He buried his face in the country of her lips, in the bridge of her neck and the land between her throat and breast, taking his time and he charted his way down, making a map of her body. Jackie closed her eyes to the pleasure, arched her back away from him so she was facing the ceiling. She could feel his hunger even in her toes.'Is that what you would have chosen as my wardrobe consultant?' She managed between gasps for air.To answer her question, he drew her hard against his body, slipped his hand underneath her skirt again and stroked her mound. He found her soaked and wanting. Involuntarily, Jackie shuddered and spasmed against him at the slight touch.They stumbled and staggered back towards the bed, never disentangling their limbs from each others. Before they arr
Dante's Fire Jackie: Chapter Eighty Three
JACKIEWhen she came to, it was morning and the windows were wide open. There was a moment of disorientation. The first thing Jackie saw was the faraway ceiling and the height of it confused her. Having lived in dorms and now, her apartment, she had grown accustomed to low ceilings and small spaces packed with necessaries. Here she was, waking up to this gaping, white vacuum. Pristine blinds billowed at the windows letting in cold air. The weak sunlight of late dawn filtered through the opening in spears of light. Jackie could have sworn that they had been shut the night before. If they were not, though, she was near sure she would not have noticed. Not with her tongue anchor-deep in Dante's throat and his hands swimming in her waist.He was still asleep next to her, lying facedown in the sheets. Jackie took in the lazy sprawl of his body, again. Asleep, he looked less capable of grim things and Jackie resisted the need that she felt to kiss his sleeping face, to brush t
Dante's Fire Andre: Chapter Eighty Four
ANDREIn all his time on this earth, Andre Diaz had never been made a fool of by a woman as much as Gloria had made of him. Gloria Noah. The name even had a mocking ring to it now that he thought of it. He had been with Nick Noah's daughter this entire time, had even slept with her, and he still did not figure out who she was until he saw it tatted on her, until he had the hard evidence of her body. It was a bad joke, the entire affair, and it was one Andre did not find even remotely amusing. He used to think of himself as someone who knew the game, who was good at it, until he crossed parts with Nick Noah. The man had fucked him up; his daughter had come along to finish the job. How ironical.Since he managed to fix the mess that Nick Noah had made of their plans, Andre was once again granted a more active role in the RWD. He no longer had to share guard duty with Imani and it was a relief to him to not have to be in close proximity to Dante every other day. He was not built to be a
Dante's Fire Spears: Chapter Eighty Five
SPEARSDante Bianchi was nothing like the Commissioner of Police had expected. This, in essence, meant that he was not old, pale and potbellied. Prior to the meeting that had been arranged between him and Natasha, he had not seen any photos of the man. Subsequently, all that changed. Ignorance had never done any man good, especially the ones in law enforcement, so he set out to know everything he needed to. This led to him being saddled with a pile of files and unfinished paperwork. There were gangs all over the city, lurking in the dark, claiming boroughs and sets. Their notoriety gained them more respect than fear, and if there was one thing that Coleman Spears had learned in all his years as an officer of the law it was that there was nothing scarier to a cop than a criminal that the people respected. Sometimes, the respect went as far as love. As a child, the story of Robin Hood was a fascinating story to Spears. As a person who had been a cop for longer than even he could rememb
Dante's Fire Big Jack: Chapter Eighty Six
BIG JACKThe Marksman found him the first time on one of the sunnier days. By then, the heydays of winter had slowly began to give way to warmer days, drifting steadily from snowy days thick with cotton-like clouds to more torrid days, and the first signs of spring had began to appear across state lines. Everywhere you turned, there were melting snowdrifts; and new blades of green grass sprouted from places in the snow. The air had also gotten considerably warmer.Joaquin went down from the hotel room they were staying at to get something from one of the shops close by. The hotel was the big fancy type, with two large beds metres away from each other. Big Jack had opted for larger, more opulent accommodation after the call from Neil. It was the best he could do. He had a faint idea of how the Marksman thought. Fugitives liked to leave very little tracks to make it impossible for anyone to track them. That was basic knowledge. So more often than not, if not always, they w
Dante's Fire Dante: Chapter Eighty Seven
DANTE The man's mother had a house uptown, in the wealthier parts of the city, squeezed between two much larger buildings. Hers was considerably smaller than the rest and elegant in its smallness, perched on an equally small parcel of land. There was no lawn.Merely looking at it, Dante approved. It did not stink of illegally obtained wealth, but smelled of gratification; did not scream of affluence, but spoke of small comforts. Dante knew well-hidden drug money when he saw it, though. And this was it.He alighted from the back of the jeep, but his uncle stayed. The man arrived in the city a few days after he had Jackie over at the house, and although the mansion was big enough that their paths would most likely not have crossed, he was thankful that Orlando had not arrived earlier. Yet was Orlando who had convinced Dante to make this trip. In his words, 'The people who work for you need to see that you care for them, Dante. Fear is one way to inspired loyalty. B
Dante's Fire The Marksman: Chapter Eighty Eight
THE MARKSMANThe killer knew fear when he smelt it. Rust and sweat, that was what it smelt like. And Jack Maeto reeked of it. It had not been an easy task finding the man, but once he had found him, staying with him was relatively easy. The man was enormous and so, he stuck out like a sore thumb. His size did not give the killer cause to worry. Scared people were predictable. They were clumsy too, repetitive. They slipped up, made mistakes. Unfortunately for them; fortunately for him.The killer sat behind the wheel of his Toyota, a old rusty car he rented. It was perfect for keeping a low profile and had let him follow the man around town without being looked at twice. He fancied himself a hunter, and Jack Maeto and his companion were blood trailing prey. The Toyota was parked in a shoulder of gravel on the street that was directly opposite the restaurant the big man had just walked into. CRAIG'S DINER. The killer popped open the glove compartment where he had kept
Dante's Fire Big Jack: Chapter Eighty Nine
BIG JACKDeath was in the air tonight. Big Jack could just taste it. He did his best to shrug the thought away. It was only his nerves, he told himself. Running on caffeine and Coca-cola was not the best way to live.The receptionist was a lady in her mid twenties—or so he guessed—and like most people at that age, she had an attitude, and when she spoke, she sounded like disturbed water. Joaquin did a good job booking a room without threatening her within an inch of life, considering how exhausted they both were.'That would be 35 dollars a day.' She said, lips smacking gum. She never looked up from the computer. A row of gaudy bracelets jingled on her wrist whenever she moved her arm.Joaquin glanced at him. He returned the look. 35 dollars was mighty cheap compared to the places they had been to. 'We will take it.' Big Jack said.'Uh, you staying the week? It would be 250 dollars in total.'There was no chance they we're staying ther
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Jackie & Big Jack: Chapter One-Hundred
JACKIEDante drove as though he meant to frighten her, in that peculiar fashion that she had seen people do in movies sometimes, when they meant to frighten their passengers into silence or verbosity. But he did not ask any more information of her, or her continued silence, which would have been unlikely. This left her to wonder what his endgame was. Was his plan to orchestrate an accident? To kill them both? He was intense, she granted him that. But he never appealed to her as suicidal.'Dante, what are you doing?' She asked tentatively.He kept his eyes on the road, never blinking. 'Is it not obvious?''You can stop the car. Stop the car, let's talk. It doesn't have to be this way.' She said. Now he looked at her. The rage that had returned had now dimmed in his eyes. Instead, there was only exhaustion. Soul-swallowing exhaustion.'You know,' he told her, 'you were the one person in this world that I believed I could grow to trust. Really trust. The one person. And then you just h
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Dante: Chapter Ninety Nine
DANTEJackie's phone beeped to life on the nightstand in the dark of the room, bathing the wall in white light, and for the third time, Dante ignored it. That night, the moon was a phosphorescent thing, and it poured into the room through the windows, spilling onto the floors. Over Jackie's shoulder, Dante watched it creep further into the room as the night drew on. The clock on the nightstand read 3 A.M in ominous red letters bright enough to betray the pistol Dante had laid next to it. But it seemed like nothing more than a few hours had passed since they had sex. The room smelled strongly of semen, fabric softener and—this close to her—cheap shampoo.Time stood still whenever Dante was with Jackie. He knew quite well that reality awaited him outside the doors of the hotel, outside of her arms, but while he was with her, his many troubles shrunk and the world ceased trying to swallow him whole, flesh and bone included.Even in the gloom, he
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Jackie: Chapter Ninety Eight
JACKIEThe Aurthurson Hotel burned a harsh silver under the glaring moon. Although it was gigantic in its own rights, it was dwarfed by the corporate skyscrapers around it. What they had in height, the hotel had in width.Dante parked the car in the parking lot and shut off the engine. He let out a long, tortured breath. Jackie examined him in the quiet darkness. He slumped into the seat and stared back at her.'Your grand plan is to sit here all night? Or are we ever going to go in?' She asked, humorously.He snorted. 'Real talk? I wish we would. It's peaceful out here. It's almost never peaceful in New York.'They stared at each other in the dim, contained silence of the car. It was the first time since the raid a semblance of calm had returned to him. He was composed again, the Dante she was accustomed to. Jackie knew caged rage intimately. In part, because she was Big Jack's daughter. In part, because she had felt it for herself. After the
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Nick: Chapter Ninety Seven
NickColeman Spears was the sort of man who did not give a sailing hoot about anyone else's sensibilities. Nick figured this out the day that he met him. A man who cared little for politics, but paid attention to it anyway, just like himself. So when he heard that the man had gone out of his way to go after Dante Bianchi, he was pleasantly surprised.It was in the tabloids, the raid. Not the police commissioner's involvement in the raid, but the raid itself. Bluish photos of Ambience taken from a distance showed dark police vehicles blocking off the main entrance from the street. Passersby stopped and stared in the snapshots. Were he younger, the old man would have been damn near ecstatic. But now, he only thought it would have been even better if Spears had finished it, had brought the goddamn Bianchi out of his precious night club in handcuffs. But hr had not. He had found nothing. This part did not leave Nick surprised. Impressed, but not surprised. Th
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Andre: Chapter Ninety Six
ANDREThe snow that gathered at the top floor of his building had melted with the coming of spring, and the water that it had left behind formed shallow puddles at the corners of the roof. Damp wetness was everywhere you looked on the roof, every surface you touched. Andre had not been here for a long while. He had forgotten what a view Brooklyn was at the darkest hours of night, and how much better the view was in the light of day. He had forgotten the rows and rows of buildings, some as tiny as pebbles in the distance, others skyscrapers, bursting through the cotton wool clouds.Memories are feeble things. But it was all coming back to him as he stood there, staring out into the day. It did not seem so long ago now, since he had been there with Nick Noah, Trent in a building some distance away, with a sniper trained on him. A much needed precaution.This time, however, like the last, Andre was not alone. Gloria was at his side. She was dressed as she oft
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Spears: Chapter Ninety five
SPEARSThe team of officers came through the front doors like an avalanche, breaking the mountain slope. This, at least, was what Spears imagined it would have seemed like to Dante Bianchi.He had taken the rear, coming in as the last man, his hands deep in the pockets of his Police parka, the handle of his firearm protruding like a leathery bone from his utility belt. Ambience was a tall building, and the lower floor could be traced with the eyes to the VIP section in the upper floor. Only staff were in the building at the time, and one of them, a woman was descending the stairs when they charged through the front door unannounced. She stopped, clutching the steel railing in a fright. Leo Daniels was ascending the steps, talking to the Oman as he climbed. The bartender was startled, too. Spears did not blame him. Cops were never bearers of good never.Soon Dante Bianchi answered them. He came rushing down the stairs, in a suit that distinguished him, gave him t
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Jackie: Chapter Ninety Four
JACKIEWhen Dante called again, asking if she would come to his club, Ambience, Jackie had said yes without pause. There should have been that fear of sounding desperate, that apprehension that he would hear her rapid, almost desperate yes, and wonder, and maybe even guess correctly that she wanted to be there only so she could go through his things so she could get into his head.But there was no fear. That gave her cause to worry. Neil had warned her many times already. The last time was the day before the call. He had picked her up from work the other day. She came down after a long, grueling shift to find him waiting in his car outside. Even though she would much rather had taken a taxi, she let herself be talked into entering the passenger seat.'Dante is dangerous.' He had told her. 'Volatile.''Oh, and you are not?'Neil ground his teeth together. She could tell he wanted to pound the steering wheel. 'Not like this. I watched him shoot a man in
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Big Jack: Chapter Ninety Three
BIG JACKHe cut the frizzly beard he had grown on the journey. In the mirror, when he looked he had become another version of himself. A man who was familiar in a distant fashion, but who was still a stranger. Big Jack washed the shaving cream off his cheeks and chin and felt the smooth, new flesh there. Another thing Joaquin would never be able to do.The fight at the motel had left him with a limp, slightly imperceptible, but still there. He limped out of the bathroom with its ornate mirror and shiny ceramic, back into the room that had been allocated to him. The windows in the room were open, and a gentle breeze played with the shutters. For there, Big Jack could catch a glimpse of the street. A row of palm trees lined both lanes on the road, the early morning sun was the colour of a cob of corn. He was leaving, finally. Everything felt distant in a way already. Like he was never there, like he was just passing through.McCoy had made his staff leave him some clean
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Dante: Chapter Ninety Two
DANTEColeman Spears was just as punctual as he had expected. The bloody man was correctness itself, what with that firm jaw, those self-righteous eyes that seemed to have the ability to make anything he did not approve of combust if he fixed them with a stare for enough time. Which was what he looked to be trying to do to Dante when he spotted him in the midst of the festivity.Dante took his hand in a firm grip. The man's giant paw of a hand almost swallowed his. 'Finally,' he said through a smile that was more clenched teeth than it was actually excitement. 'I get to meet the man running the city.'Spears snorted. 'I could say the same for you. The people seem to believe you are the one in charge.'Dante's arm was in grave danger of being crushed. Flattery and subtle violence? One handshake and a sentence and he absolutely loved this guy.He managed to get his hand out of the vice grip and smiled. 'Well, this is New York. The people think what they
