Unfinished Business

Chapter 3: Unfinished Business

Elijah hated being underestimated.

It didn't matter if it was corporate sharks, power-hungry investors, or, apparently, arrogant mafia bosses who thought they could waltz into his life and take whatever they wanted.

Dante Moretti had walked away from their little meeting like he'd already won. That smug bastard probably thought Elijah would let this go.

Big mistake.

Elijah Sinclair didn't lose.

---

The next morning, Elijah sat in his sleek, glass-walled office, his fingers tapping against the dark oak desk. The city skyline stretched behind him, a reminder of the empire he'd built from the ground up.

Across from him sat Nathan Cross, his best friend and head of security, wearing his usual black tactical gear and an unimpressed expression.

"So let me get this straight," Nathan said, rubbing a hand down his face. "You insulted the head of the Moretti crime family. Refused to back down. And now you want to go after his newly acquired properties out of spite?"

Elijah swirled his coffee, unfazed. "It's not spite. It's business."

Nathan snorted. "Right. And I suppose the fact that he smirked at you like you were his next meal has nothing to do with this sudden vendetta?"

Elijah's eye twitched. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Nathan groaned. "Elijah. Listen to me. You don't mess with these people. They don't play by your boardroom rules. They don't care about contracts or legalities—"

"Neither do I," Elijah interrupted, setting his coffee down with a quiet clink. His black eyes gleamed with challenge. "If Moretti wants a fight, I'll give him one."

Nathan muttered something under his breath, probably questioning why he still worked for Elijah after all these years. "Fine. What's the plan?"

Elijah smirked. "Simple. If I can't take the properties from Moretti—"

Nathan leaned forward, brows raised. "—then?"

"I'll make him regret ever touching them."

---

Later That Night – Moretti's Club

Dante Moretti leaned against the private balcony of his high-end club, watching the nightlife below with mild disinterest. The VIP section was filled with important figures—corrupt politicians, business moguls, people who owed him favors.

He should have been focused on that.

But instead, his mind kept replaying last night's conversation.

You're playing with fire.

Then I guess you'll just have to try and burn me.

Elijah Sinclair was interesting. He wasn't like the other CEOs Dante dealt with—the ones who cowered or obeyed. No, Elijah fought back. Challenged him.

And Dante liked a challenge.

Just as he was about to grab another drink, Luca Moretti, his younger brother, strolled over with an amused grin.

"Hey, big brother. You're looking way too serious. Thinking about a certain sharp-tongued businessman, maybe?"

Dante didn't react. "Did you come here just to be annoying, or do you actually have news?"

Luca smirked, but his playful demeanor faded as he pulled out his phone. "You might want to see this."

Dante took the phone and scanned the screen. His brown eyes darkened.

It was a news article.

"Sinclair Enterprises Strikes Back – CEO Elijah Sinclair Announces Aggressive Expansion Plans."

Attached was a photo of Elijah, standing in front of a sleek black car, dressed in a perfectly tailored navy-blue suit. Confident. Untouchable.

And beneath the article was the real kicker.

"Sinclair's company outbids Moretti's recent acquisitions, targeting the exact properties controlled by the mafia syndicate. A direct challenge?"

Dante exhaled a low chuckle.

"Elijah Sinclair," he murmured, setting the phone down. "You really don't know when to quit, do you?"

Luca raised an eyebrow. "He's basically declaring war on you, you know."

Dante's lips curled into a slow, dangerous smirk.

"Good," he said, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Let's see how far he's willing to go."

---

Meanwhile – Sinclair Enterprises

Elijah adjusted the cuffs of his suit as he exited the press conference, satisfaction settling deep in his chest. The announcement had gone perfectly. Now, the world knew he was directly opposing Dante Moretti.

It was reckless. Bold. Possibly suicidal.

But it felt good.

Nathan fell into step beside him, shaking his head. "You realize this means war, right?"

Elijah smirked. "Oh, I'm counting on it."

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