Page 34 of The Enforcer (Damn! #2)

THE GREAT HALL of Titus Dante’s mansion was designed to impress, but tonight, it felt more like a war room.

Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the Dallas skyline, glittering and ruthless, a reflection of the power being brokered inside these walls.

The polished marble floor gleamed under the light of an opulent chandelier, but no one was admiring the décor. Not tonight.

Titus Dante sat at the head of the long, mahogany table, a king on his throne, dressed in tailored midnight black. His expression was carved from stone, unreadable, his dark eyes a study in lethal calculation. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. His presence commanded the room.

Beside him, Zane Dante was a silent Enforcer, his energy wrapped tight, ready to strike.

Dressed in an impeccable suit, his posture was deceptively relaxed, but the aura of danger clung to him like a second skin.

On Titus’s other side sat Cade, his Chief, consigliere, and brother. And at the doorway...

Lily.

She wasn’t supposed to be here, hadn’t been invited to this meeting. And when she appeared, his entire body went rigid with barely contained rage. His eyes narrowing with a lethal promise as he pushed back from his chair, moving toward her before anyone else could react.

She had no idea how dangerous this meeting was. If anything happened to her, if the Severins so much as looked at her wrong, there wouldn’t be enough of them left to bury.

“Lily,” Zane’s voice was low and careful, but the undercurrent of wrath was unmistakable.

His anger wasn’t just simmering, it was a volatile, barely contained inferno, ready to detonate.

His hand was already on her arm, his grip firm but not bruising as he pulled her behind him, positioning his body as a shield between her and the Severins. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I had to come,” she whispered, her eyes meeting his, pleading for understanding. But there was no time for explanations. “You see—”

Leif Severin, seated across the table, didn’t miss a beat.

His cold blue gaze settled on Lily, assessing, calculating, but not threatening.

His fingers tapped once against the polished wood of the table, a barely perceptible motion, but one that spoke volumes.

A subtle reminder that self-discipline, in his world, was rarely loud or obvious.

“She’s welcome here,” he said smoothly, his tone calm but carrying the authority of someone who understood the stakes. His expression was unreadable, but there was no hostility in his posture. “Miss Mirabella, pardon, Mrs. Dante, is not in danger. Not tonight.”

Zane didn’t move. He didn’t trust easily. And he sure as hell didn’t trust a Severin.

“I assure you,” Leif added, his voice measured but firm, “if I had wanted to harm your wife, I wouldn’t have invited her.”

“You didn’t invite her,” Zane growled, his tone like a blade sliding free of its sheath.

“He sort of did,” Lily whispered. “After you left. His men insisted I come.”

“True,” Leif admitted, a flicker of something perilous in his eyes. “But to be clear, I sent my men for her to ensure her safety. I didn’t want to risk any… misunderstandings.”

Zane went still.

Lily felt the shift in him instantly. The calm before a storm. His grip on her tightened. His rage was a living, breathing thing, surrounding them like a predator ready to strike.

“You sent men for my wife.”

Zane’s voice was low. Lethal.

Leif didn’t flinch. “As I said. For her safety.”

“For her safety?” Zane’s tone became pure inferno. “Or to make a point?”

Leif’s expression didn’t change, but the tension in the room thickened.

Titus’s gaze, dark and unreadable, swept over the scene. He didn’t speak, but his silence was deafening.

“Sit,” Titus said finally, his voice calm but laced with iron. “We have business to finish.”

Zane guided Lily to a seat beside him, his body still angled protectively toward her. His eyes never left Leif.

Leif Severin sat with the unshakable poise of a man who had never been second to anyone.

Tall. Broad. Nordic. His hair was a shade of gold so pale it was almost white, cut with brutal precision, and his eyes, cold, piercing blue, were the color of Arctic ice.

His face appeared all austere angles and unforgiving lines, a man carved from stone and tempered in fire.

There was nothing soft about the man. He carried himself like someone who had fought his way to the top and intended to stay there.

And he wasn’t intimidated.

Wary? Yes.

But not intimidated.

Beside him sat two men, his Underboss and Captain. Behind him stood a pair of Enforcers. Quiet, observant, and lethal. Their presence alone was a message. The Severins had come prepared.

“I must apologize for my father’s absence,” Leif said finally, his voice smooth, calm, and carrying unmistakable authority.

It was the voice of a man who had stepped into power and knew exactly how to wield it.

“Bjorn Severin met with an… unfortunate accident before he could leave for this meeting.”

Silence stretched, thick and unyielding.

“He’s in the hospital,” Leif continued, his tone devoid of emotion. “It’s unlikely he’ll survive.”

He delivered the news with cool detachment, as though announcing the weather.

But his eyes… his eyes told a different story.

There was no grief there. Only the cold, ruthless clarity of a man who had eliminated a serious liability.

One so catastrophic it left the Severins vulnerable, their foundation cracked and bleeding.

He’d had no choice but to remove the threat before it consumed them all.

Titus didn’t react. Not visibly. But the air in the room shifted, tension radiating throughout.

Cade’s expression hardened as his gaze flicked toward Leif, reading between the lines.

Zane’s posture remained deceptively relaxed, but the barely perceptible coldness in his eyes revealed his simmering distrust. Even Lily felt it, the unspoken threats and the dangerous possibilities that had just been set in motion.

No one dared speak, but the awareness of what had truly transpired settled over the room like a suffocating shroud.

“Unfortunate,” Titus murmured at last, his voice low and measured. “A son losing his father is never easy.”

Leif’s expression didn’t change. “No. It isn’t.” His tone was respectful but distant, as though he had already put his father in the past. “But it was necessary.” A beat. “Bjorn made mistakes. Mistakes that put my family in serious jeopardy. That couldn’t be tolerated. Nor will it happen again.”

Lily’s breath caught. She wasn’t sure if it was the sheer ice in Leif’s words or the way his eyes met Titus’s without a flicker of hesitation. Leif Severin wasn’t here to beg for forgiveness. He was here to negotiate on his terms.

Zane’s body radiating a quiet menace. But he didn’t speak. Not yet. This was Titus’s table. His war. And Zane knew how to play the game.

“Interesting,” Titus said softly, his fingers steepled in front of him. “And now that you’re in charge… You must be here to set matters straight.”

Leif inclined his head, a gesture that was both respectful and calculating. “I am.”

“Good.” Titus leaned back, his expression cool and unyielding. “Then let’s talk.”

The Boss’s posture remained relaxed, but Lily could see the iron constraint beneath the surface. His body was a study in restrained clout, a predator waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

“We’ll return everything,” Leif said, his tone as calm as the eye of a storm. “Every asset. Every trace. Blackthorn Holdings will be completely restored to the Dantes.”

Silence stretched, thick and heavy.

Titus didn’t move, his expression unreadable, but Lily could feel the magnitude of his consideration. The offer was generous, too generous. And generosity from the Severins always came with a price.

Leif’s posture remained composed, but Lily noticed the faint tension in his body.

He was calm, but this wasn’t easy for him.

And that made her wonder, what price was he truly willing to pay to secure this alliance?

Was he prepared to sacrifice more than just his father?

Or was there something darker at play beneath that disciplined exterior?

Whatever he was about to propose would change everything.

“And what’s the catch?” Titus’s voice was smooth, but the unyielding resolve beneath it was unmistakable.

Leif didn’t blink. “No catch.” His gaze, cold and steady, locked with Titus’s. “Just a future where our families are… aligned.”

Lily’s stomach clenched. She sensed what was coming before the words left his lips.

“First…” His gaze shifted, landing on Lily with clinical detachment. “I want Mrs. Dante to verify the return of all assets. Personally.”

Lily’s stomach flipped, but she kept her expression neutral. She wasn’t naive. This wasn’t about trust. It was about power. And Leif Severin wanted to make damn sure that if anything went wrong, the blame would fall squarely on her shoulders.

“I’m happy to do that,” she said evenly, meeting his gaze without flinching. “But I’ll need full access. Every file. Every server. Every digital trace.”

His lips curled, a flicker of something that might have been amusement. “Of course. Transparency is key.” His gaze returned to Titus. “I want this business between our families settled. Permanently.”

“And in return?” Titus’s voice was beyond hard.

Leif didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he let the silence stretch, his gaze steady, unyielding. The authority behind his words lingered, ratcheting up the tension in the room.

“I’m not just offering restitution,” Leif said finally, his tone quieter but no less commanding. “I’m offering something far more critical, an end to chaos. A way to stabilize a dangerously volatile situation before it spirals beyond everyone’s control.”