"Then let help you. I’ll manage all your legal businesses and move your funds so you won’t have to worry about where your money is or what those workers you trust so much are doing with your earnings." Beth had made the decision to protect her brother.
If Dante got involved in all these affairs, he would ensure that not a single damn cent of his belonged to soone else.
"Now we’re starting to understand each other better. But I have a small question—how much would you charge for your services?" A smile ford on Dante’s lips as he looked at his dear sister.
"Well, considering the risk factor, a million."
"Per month?"
"Per week. What’s the matter? Don’t tell you can’t afford to pay that to your dear sister. If you’re not making enough, then I suggest you step away from all this ss." Beth understood that this wasn’t just about money; it was about giving her brother more power.
"No, I’ll pay you double." Dante knew there were ways to keep his family out of his problems.
Even if they were accomplices, even if he got caught by so federal departnt, he had plenty of resources to ensure they would never be incriminated.
But the thought that sothing like that could happen now that he had consolidated his power was unrealistic. There was no way Dante would be caught.
When Beth heard her brother’s words, a sense of peace washed over her. Even though she didn’t approve of everything he was risking by doing what he had kept hidden until now, she believed that, in so way, it was necessary.
If Dante could protect their family better than she or their older brothers could, then she would support him to make it all worthwhile.
...
Dante had spent his entire teenage years dreaming of getting into Columbia University. Sleepless nights, sacrificing outings with friends, and carrying the weight of constant academic pressure didn’t matter. Achieving it ant proving to the world—and to himself—that effort was everything, that with dedication, any goal could be reached. But the mont he set foot on campus, disillusionnt hit him with brutal force.
Superficiality and cynicism ruled the classrooms. His classmates didn’t seem interested in knowledge but in maintaining appearances, in pretending to be intellectuals while their last nas and social status pushed them through the system to places many only dread of reaching. Dante wondered if all his effort had been worth it, only to beco a spectator in a world that ignored him.
But nothing affected him as much as that afternoon when he saw a war veteran lose his mind in front of everyone. He was an older man, dressed in a dirty coat and a faded military cap. In the middle of the campus’ central plaza, he started shouting incoherent words, as if trapped in a war mory that had never ended for him. His voice was a mix of anguish and despair—a cry for help that no one wanted to hear.
Students walked past him. So laughed, others looked at him with disgust. No one stopped, no one reached out a hand. Dante watched in silence, his heart clenched, as the man fell to his knees, sobbing. Eventually, security guards arrived and dragged him away as if he were a problem to be removed, a shaful spectacle that shouldn’t disrupt the illusion of perfection on campus.
That night, Dante couldn’t sleep. He thought about the blood spilled by thousands of soldiers, about the sacrifices of those who had given their lives believing they were protecting sothing valuable, only to be discarded like trash.
A burning rage ignited in his chest. It wasn’t fair. He couldn’t continue living in a world where a man’s sacrifice was worth less than the indifference of a few rich kids.
That was when he decided to create SAMCRO (Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club, Redwood Original). It wouldn’t be just a motorcycle gang—it would be a brotherhood. A refuge for ex-soldiers and special forces operatives who understood what it ant to be forgotten by the system. n who knew loyalty, sacrifice, and war. If society didn’t want them, they would take what they needed by force.
Dante told everyone that to build a powerful organization, they needed more than just selling weapons, which is why they turned to cannabis.
That was his story in this life, but in his previous life, things weren’t as simple as many might think. Even though his power was imnse, he lived and died alone.
He could have avoided it, but he had no one special to fight for.
There was no honorable reason beyond seeking power and indulging in worldly desires.
But now things were different. Dante fought for his family, and there was nothing more special that motivated him to move forward with his businesses.
Power and more power.
Dante craved more power—far more control over everyone else.
Kayce and Beth understood him, Susie supported him, so there wasn’t much more he could ask from life.
Things wouldn’t be peaceful, but those were re obstacles on the road—ones that Dante could easily remove.
...
Unraveled Ranch
A man stood inside a barn, holding a phone, looking furious.
"They followed this morning. I don’t know who they are, but I think I’m in danger."
"Zz... Does this have anything to do with that family we’re going to attack? You need to inform of any anomalies—I’m not putting my n at risk."
"I’ll pay you extra. This is before I et my son, but there’s no other choice."
"Zz... Consider it done. We’ll take down the Duttons."
The man seed anxious, as if sothing was breathing down his neck.
What he didn’t know was that Dante was rely postponing his execution.
The person who had put the Duttons on a blacklist was none other than Jamie’s real father—Garrett.
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