The door slams shut behind Big Business, the sound echoing like a gavel. His office is dim, lit only by the neon skyline of Manhattan bleeding through the tinted windows. Dante Vellaro sits across from him — arms crossed, jaw tight, Broadway bravado flickering under real frustration. Bruno Marchetti stands behind him like a granite statue in a suit.

Big Business adjusts his tie, smirks, and drops a thick folder onto the desk.

“Gentlemen… I just saved your careers.”

Dante raises an eyebrow.  

Bruno doesn’t move.

Big Business taps the folder.

“Fire Marshal Hardcastle and the creative team had you, Dante, losing to Thor Van Hammer in twelve seconds. Twelve. Seconds. The Broadway Bruiser? The Ratings Magnet? The man who rehearses his entrance lighting cues like a Tony Award winner?”  

He leans forward.

“Not on my watch.”

Dante’s eyes narrow — insulted, but intrigued.

Big Business continues:

“I pulled you from the match. Outflanked Hardcastle. Outmaneuvered the booking committee. I burned the script before they could bury you in it.”

He slides a new contract across the desk.

💼 SUNDAY NIGHT SLAM — EXCLUSIVE TALENT AGREEMENT  

DANTE VELLARO — THE BROADWAY BRUISER

Dante stares at it.  

His fingers twitch.  

His pride wrestles with his ambition.

Big Business softens his tone — just slightly.

“Dante… you’re too good to be fed to Thor Van Hammer. Too valuable to be cannon fodder on FURY. You’re not a stepping stone. You’re a star. And stars belong where they can shine.”

He taps the contract again.

“SLAM needs a leading man. And you? You were born for the spotlight.”

Dante exhales — slow, dramatic, theatrical.

“So you’re saying… I’m not being punished. I’m being promoted.”

Big Business grins.

“I’m saying trust me. I’m saying you’re joining The Consolidation. I’m saying you’re about to become a made man on SLAM.”

Dante signs.

Bruno cracks a smile — rare, dangerous.

Big Business turns to him.

“And you, Bruno… they had you penciled in as Thor’s next victim. Another ‘statement win’ for the Viking. Another stepping stone in his meteoric rise.”

He shakes his head.

“Not anymore.”

He hands Bruno his own contract.

💼 SUNDAY NIGHT SLAM — EXCLUSIVE TALENT AGREEMENT  

BRUNO MARCHETTI — THE SICILIAN SLEDGE

Bruno looks at it, then at Big Business.

“So instead of being fed to Thor… I get fed to nobody.”

Big Business laughs.

“No. You get fed respect. You get fed power. You get fed opportunity.”

He steps between them, placing a hand on each man’s shoulder.

“You two aren’t stepping stones. You’re pillars. Foundations. Assets. And assets don’t get sacrificed — they get protected.”

He straightens his jacket.

“On SLAM, you’re not victims. You’re made men.”

Dante smirks.  

Bruno nods.  

The room shifts — the energy thickens.

Big Business walks to the window, staring out at the city.

“Meanwhile… at CONVERGENCE? Let’s see who can really fight. Shoot style if need be. No scripts. No shortcuts. No twelve‑second embarrassments.”

He turns back to them.

“Thor Van Hammer wants a meteoric rise? Let him earn it. Let him bleed for it. Let him prove he’s more than a lightning‑powered marketing gimmick.”

He points at Dante.

“You’re not his victim.”

He points at Bruno.

“You’re not his stepping stone.”

He points at both.

“You’re my Consolidation. And on SLAM? You’re untouchable.”

A beat of silence.

Then Dante laughs — loud, theatrical, Broadway‑big.

Bruno joins in — deep, rumbling, dangerous.

Big Business laughs last — sharp, confident, victorious.

Three giant, beefy, legitimately trained Italian mafia‑bred monsters laughing in unison.

A sound that shakes the office.  

A sound that signals a shift in power.  

A sound that promises war.

Big Business raises a glass.

“To SLAM. To The Consolidation. To made men.”

Dante clinks his glass.

Bruno clinks his.

All three drink.

The storm outside rumbles — but inside the office, a new empire is forming.