THE UNDERESTIMATED UNDERWORLD KING

TAMING THE UNDERWORLD KING!

Vincent's fingers flew across the keyboard, pulling up tactical maps overlaid with real-time data. "Locations confirmed. Scarlett is in the warehouse in Sector 7, east side. Sophia is in the abandoned hospital, Sector 12, west side. Distance between them: forty-seven minutes by the fastest route we have."

"They've split our forces perfectly." Vincent's voice was tight. "If we send teams to both locations, we're too divided to be effective. If we focus on one, the other dies. It's a textbook tactical trap."

Isabella studied the maps with sharp eyes. "Why does Sophia matter to you if Scarlett is the one you were married to?" She wasn't asking out of curiosity—she was probing, trying to understand what made Dante move.

Dante's mind flashed back to Leonard's hospital room three years ago. The old man's grip on his hand had been surprisingly strong for someone dying.

"There's another daughter," Leonard had whispered, voice ragged. "From before Victoria. Her name is Sophia. She's innocent—doesn't even know about the Hayes family fortune. Victoria would destroy her if she knew." His breathing had turned labored. "Promise me... protect her too. Make sure she gets her inheritance when the time is right."

For three years, Dante had kept that promise in secret. Sophia's education at a prestigious university? Funded through an anonymous scholarship Dante had established. The security detail that kept her safe without her knowledge? Dante's people, rotating shifts, invisible protection. The trust fund waiting for her twenty-fifth birthday? Dante had built it from nothing while scrubbing floors in the Hayes mansion.

Isabella saw something shift in his expression. "You don't love Scarlett anymore. Maybe you never really did—it was duty to Leonard. But Sophia... she's innocent. She's what you wish Scarlett had been."

"Sophia is kind and grateful," Dante said quietly. "Brilliant even. She works as a teacher, volunteers at shelters, doesn't care about wealth or status. She's everything this city's elite families destroyed in their children. If she dies because of me, because I drew the Syndicate's attention..."

"Boss, we need a decision." Vincent's voice cut through. "I can get you to one location, but not both. Who do we save?"

Dante's phone rang.

The number showed as blocked, but he knew who it was. He answered, putting it on speaker.

"Dante?" Scarlett's voice came through, broken and terrified. "Dante, please, I'm so sorry, I'm so scared. They're going to kill me. Please, I know I don't deserve it, but please save me."

For the first time in three years, genuine emotion colored her words when speaking to him. Not contempt, not dismissal, but raw fear and something that might have been regret.

"I was wrong. About everything. Marcus used me, and I was too blind to see it. You tried to—"

Gunshots exploded through the phone. Scarlett screamed. The line went dead.

Vincent cursed. Isabella watched Dante's face for reaction.

"They let her make that call," Dante said, voice level. "They're playing with emotions, trying to cloud judgment."

"Is it working?" Isabella asked.

Dante looked at her. "What am I supposed to be? The hero who saves his wife despite her betrayal? Or the pragmatist who saves the innocent at the expense of the guilty?"

"I don't know. What are you?"

"I'm neither." Dante turned to Vincent. "Split Team Delta—send half to each location. Make it loud, visible, draw all the Syndicate's attention and firepower. I want them to think we're throwing everything we have at a two-front assault."

Vincent's eyes widened. "And the real strategy?"

"While they're focused on defending against our teams, I'll extract both targets using the underground tunnel system that connects Sectors 7 and 12. The city's old smuggling routes—routes the Syndicate doesn't know exist because I've kept them secret for situations exactly like this."

Isabella pulled up city infrastructure maps on her tablet. "The tunnels run under the city for miles, but they're unmapped, unstable, and flooded in sections. That's not a rescue plan, that's a death sentence."

"I've used those tunnels a hundred times. I know every junction, every collapse, every flooded section. I can reach both locations from below, extract both targets, and be gone before the Syndicate realizes I was never coming through the front door."

Vincent checked his watch, calculating. "Boss, even with the tunnels, you have maybe ten minutes of margin for error. If anything goes wrong—"

"Then I don't let anything go wrong." Dante grabbed his tactical vest, checking equipment with practiced efficiency. "Vincent, you command the surface operation. Isabella, I need your satellite feeds monitoring both locations in real-time. Feed them to my tactical display."

"Done." Isabella was already making calls.

Dante moved to the corner of the office where Isabella kept what looked like a decorative bookshelf. He pressed a hidden panel and the shelf swung open, revealing an elevator that definitely wasn't on any building schematic.

"How did you know that was there?" Isabella asked.

"I own this building. Through five shell companies, but I own it." Dante stepped into the elevator. "I'll have communications until I'm below street level. After that, radio silence. If I'm not back in two hours, assume I'm dead and proceed with contingency protocols."

The elevator descended, dropping far below ground level into infrastructure that predated the modern city. Dante emerged into a brick tunnel system that smelled of damp stone and forgotten history. Gas lamps flickered along the walls—he'd installed them years ago when he'd first mapped these routes.

His earpiece crackled. "Boss, Team Delta is deploying. ETA to both locations: twelve minutes. Syndicate forces are mobilizing to defend. It's working—they're focused topside."

"Good. Maintain radio silence unless it's critical. I'm going dark."

Dante moved through the tunnels with the confidence of someone who'd walked these paths countless times. Left at the collapsed section, duck under the low archway, skip the third step on the rusted staircase because it would give way. Every detail mapped in his mind.

His tactical display showed both teams engaging. Gunfire erupted at Sector 7. Sniper fire pinned down the team at Sector 12. The Syndicate was throwing everything at the visible threat, exactly as planned.

Dante reached the junction point below the Sector 7 warehouse. Above him, through an ancient iron grate, he could hear voices.

"The Phantom's teams are getting slaughtered topside. This was too easy. Something's wrong."

"Doesn't matter. We have our orders—once his teams are wiped out, execute both hostages and leave the bodies as a message."

A third voice, female and cold as winter. "No. Change of plans. I just received confirmation—the Phantom is already inside the facility. He used some kind of underground access. Seal all the tunnels."

Dante froze.

"He's trying to be clever, so let's bury him alive with his precious hostages. Flood the tunnel system. Drown them all like rats."

Mechanical sounds echoed through the tunnels—ancient water valves grinding open. Within seconds, water began rushing in from multiple directions, the sound growing from a trickle to a roar.

"Boss, get out of there NOW!" Vincent's voice screamed through the earpiece. "They're flooding the entire system!"

Dante looked up through the grate. Twenty feet above him, Scarlett was tied to a chair, surrounded by armed guards. His tactical display showed Sophia's location in the hospital—accessible through a tunnel that was rapidly filling with water.

"Boss, you can't save both!" Vincent's panic was clear. "The tunnels are flooding too fast! You have to choose or you'll die too!"

Water was already at Dante's ankles, rising fast. Three minutes, maybe less, before the entire system was underwater. The math was brutal and simple: save Scarlett, Sophia drowns. Save Sophia, Scarlett dies. Try to save both, all three of them die.

Above him, he heard the female voice again. "Check the tunnel access points. Make sure he can't escape."

Footsteps approached the grate. Water rising to his knees now.

A smile tucked at Dante's lips. The underworld king had expected exactly this!