Page 10 of Powerful Deception

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Page 10 of Powerful Deception

I had so many questions roaming through my head about Dante Rosetti that I wanted to ask but I missed my opportunity.

The article that I had clicked on before Ella showed up was no help. It was a puff piece talking about how they suspected that Dante Rosetti was indeed in fact the person they called the devil. The person that ran all the crime rings in Chicago, but there it was merely opinions and nothing concrete.

Nothing that tied him to killings that happened in poor neighborhoods around the city or even the drug trade, just suspicions.

I abandoned the article and looked more into who Dante Rosetti actually was.

From what I found, I know he is well off and is a member of high society. I know he’s Italian and is the owner of one of the most prestigious strip clubs in the state, if not the country.

On paper, Dante Rosetti is clean, too clean if you ask me but if Ella’s warning was anything, I know that this man is the exact opposite than the person he portrays to be.

The man that goes by the name Dante Rosetti may have come out clean in my research, but the one that goes by the other name, the devil, did not.

Police and reporters describe him to be the main crime boss in Cook County. The mafia boss they say. The Monster. The ruler of the underworld.

This man is tied to more than a hundred murders. He may have not pulled the trigger in all of them, but the police are certain that he was the one behind them. The one that called for them to happen. From the looks of it, people have been trying to bring down this man for years and not once have they come close to succeeding.

Or even being able come up with evidence that tells them that Rosetti and the devil are the same person.

Looking through all the articles, I couldn’t help but wonder if my dad was close. Maybe he was working on something that could bring this person down.

To bring Rosetti down.

And if he had gotten close to succeeding, then that has to be why he was killed, right? He had to have found something that ultimately cost him his life.

The only way to find that out is to disregard Ella Vincent’s warning and go after this man. Because the more I learn about him, the more I know that Dante Rosetti had a hand in my father’s death. I need to find out for sure and if I am right, I won’t hesitate to tie him to a chair and give him the same beating my last living parent received and leave him for dead.

How I will achieve that, I have no idea.

As of right now there are few ideas swimming through my head, but the more I think about them the more the doubt of them actually working sinks in.

But I have to try.

I have to try to bring this man down, because I’m sure once he is out of the picture, anyone else involved in this will crumble.

Dante Rosetti is the main character in this, so it’s fitting that he goes first.

Step one in doing this, is getting out of the mourning cloud that head is in and show the world I started living again even if I haven’t.

And what better way to keep that act up, that there is life after losing a parent, than to go back to work?

When my dad died, Jimmy, the owner of the bar that I work at, told me that I could take off as much time that I needed.

With the money that Bennett Lane gave me, I don’t have to come back, but if I didn’t come back, it would raise a few eyebrows. I, Arianna Vitale, am not the type of person to just quit her job because of money. I have to be strategic about this and acting as if my life is somewhat normal is the way to go.

Besides the bar is what I like to call a watering hole for business type men. Men that may know a thing or two about how one would find themselves involved with Rosetti.

From what I’ve seen and heard from these people, some of them are more than willing to talk with the promise of a young mouth blowing their popsicle behind their wife’s back.

Even if I think that type of thing is wrong on so many levels, to get the information I want I wouldn’t be opposed to using my body. I just hope that it doesn’t have to come to that.

Yet that didn’t stop me from leaving my apartment twenty minutes ago with a tight pair of jeans and a low-cut shirt.

Anything to help with getting the information I need, no matter how much self-respect I lose.

I pull open the door to the bar and instantly I’m met with the scent of greasy food, beer and loud music.

For a second, I’m back to the night that turned my world upside down. As much as I want to cry I don’t. I push it to the side and slap a smile on my face and walk in.




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