Six Months Contract With The Mafia God

Dante leaned back in his chair, processing the weight of what was being asked.

He was no longer just creating chaos and distraction. He was now being ordered to actively participate in murder. To provide The Covenant with the weapon they needed to kill Eve.

”I need you to plant one of your people close to her,” the voice said. ”Someone trustworthy. Someone capable. Someone who can embed themselves in her daily life and become indispensable to her.”

”Where is she currently?” Dante asked.

”Still in New York. She’s with Dimitri at their private penthouse. But she moves...restaurants, social events, charity galas, shopping. She has routines. We need someone who can integrate into those routines.”

”And what kind of person are we talking about?” Dante asked. ”Age, gender, background?”

”A woman would be ideal,” the voice said. ”Women are less suspected of threatening other women. Someone who can become her friend. A confidant. Someone she’ll trust completely before we use her.”

Dante was quiet, thinking through the logistics of this.

”This needs to happen immediately,” the voice continued. ”We’re accelerating our timeline. The longer Eve remains alive, the longer Dimitri has to prepare for our next move. We need the infiltration in place within two weeks. We need someone close to her by then.”

”Two weeks is aggressive,” Dante said.

”It’s necessary,” the voice said coldly. ”Make it happen. Find someone. Get them close to Dimitri’s woman. And keep me updated on the progress.”

The line went dead.

Dante sat in the darkness of his office for a long time.

What he’d just agreed to was different from everything else. Brooklyn territory could be taken back. Dealers could switch back to Dimitri. The Japanese deal could potentially be salvaged.

But murder was permanent.

Once he provided The Covenant with an infiltrator, once that person got close to Eve and The Covenant executed their plan, there was no undoing it. There was no taking it back. There was only the absolute, irreversible fact of a dead woman. ℴ

And Dante would have enabled it.

He pulled up a secure file on his computer, a personnel database of everyone who worked for him or with him. Operatives, fixers, people who’d proven themselves capable and loyal.

Women in positions of trust. Women who could potentially embed themselves in Manhattan high society. Women who could befriend a target and become essential to them before striking.

There were four candidates.

Maria Delgado — mid-thirties, originally from Colombia, worked as an art gallery manager. Beautiful, cultured, sophisticated. Could move through wealthy social circles without drawing suspicion.

Angela Moretti — late twenties, Italian-American, worked in fashion PR. Young enough to pass as a peer to Eve, established in Manhattan’s social scene, understood how to network and build relationships.

Sophia Russo — mid-forties, sophisticated, wealthy family background, could pose as someone from Eve’s own socioeconomic stratum. Least likely to draw suspicion from security.

Katarina Volkov — early thirties, Russian, worked as a personal trainer and wellness consultant. Could get access to Eve through fitness routines, massage services, the kind of intimate professional relationship that built trust quickly.

Each of them had the skills. Each of them had the capability. Each of them was loyal enough to Dante that they’d follow orders without question.

But choosing one meant selecting someone to become a weapon in The Covenant’s hands. It meant choosing someone to eventually be used to murder a woman.

The ethical weight of it was staggering.

But Dante had no choice.

Refusal meant his own death. Refusal meant The Covenant eliminating him and finding someone else to do the job anyway. Refusal changed nothing except the identity of who was going to help kill Eve.

So he didn’t refuse.

***

Dante called Luca back to the operations center.

When Luca arrived, Dante closed the door and brought him into the situation without preamble.

”The Covenant wants us to plant someone close to Eve,” Dante said. ”Someone who can get intimate access to her. Who can monitor her movements and eventually facilitate her elimination.”

Luca’s expression didn’t change, but Dante could see the calculation happening behind his eyes.

”Two weeks,” Dante continued. ”That’s the timeline. We need someone embedded by then.”

”That’s incredibly aggressive,” Luca said. ”Building trust with someone that close, getting into her inner circle, establishing yourself as essential, that takes time.”

”We don’t have time,” Dante said. ”The Covenant is accelerating. They’re done waiting. They want this done.”

Luca was quiet for a moment, then: ”Who are you thinking?”

Dante pulled up the personnel files on his screen and turned it toward Luca.

”Any of these four could work,” Dante said. ”The question is who’s most likely to gain access to Eve without triggering security suspicion.”

Luca studied the profiles, reading the backgrounds, the qualifications, the loyalty ratings.

”Angela Moretti,” Luca said finally. ”She’s young enough to be a peer. She’s established in Manhattan’s fashion and social scene, which is exactly the kind of circles Eve moves in. She’s beautiful without being intimidating. She’s smart. And she’s loyal to you without question.”

Dante looked at the photograph accompanying Angela’s file. Mid-twenties, dark hair, elegant features, the kind of woman who could move through high society without drawing particular attention.

”How would you position her?” Dante asked.

”Fashion consultant,” Luca said. ”Or personal stylist. Something that gives her legitimate reason to spend time with Eve. To spend time with her shopping, to spend time at events where Eve appears. To eventually become so essential to Eve’s life that separation would feel impossible.”

”And then?” Dante asked.

”And then, when The Covenant is ready, she’s positioned for whatever access they need,” Luca said quietly. ”She’s the knife, and we’ve just handed her to them.”

Dante understood the weight of what Luca wasn’t saying. This was different. This was crossing a line that couldn’t be uncrossed.

”It has to be done,” Dante said flatly.

”I know,” Luca said. ”But you need to understand what you’re ordering Angela to do. You’re ordering her to befriend a woman with the specific intent of facilitating that woman’s murder. You’re ordering her to lie every day, to perform friendship while planning betrayal, to eventually participate in assassination.”

”The Covenant is ordering it,” Dante corrected. ”I’m just facilitating.”