"Okay," I replied.
My calm and genuine response stunned him into silence.
After a long pause, he asked slowly, "What did you say?"
I repeated, "It's all for the new casino opening's promotion. I understand. Don't worry, I'll handle the press."
After I finished speaking, the breathing on the other end of the phone grew heavier and more uneven. It sounded low and restrained, the way Dante always sounded when he was on the verge of losing his temper.
I knew what would come next. Harsh words, accusations, that familiar tone that used to make me flinch.
I didn't want to hear it anymore. Without hesitation, I hung up and turned off my phone.
Then I picked up my work phone and calmly contacted several of the most connected tabloid journalists in the city. One by one, I told them to push the story about Dante carrying Serafina in a princess hold straight to the top of the headlines.
There was a brief silence on the other end of each call.
"Mrs. Valente, are you sure you want to do this?" one of them finally asked, clearly taken aback.
I understood their reaction. In the past, I had always been the one paying to suppress this kind of coverage. I would explain everything away as promotional appearances for the Family's front businesses, controlling the narrative so it never got out of hand.
But this time, I had no intention of doing that.
Since I was already preparing for a civil split, I needed to secure my position. I had to protect the assets we shared, the shell accounts, the restaurant fronts, the real estate, and make sure I wouldn't walk away with nothing.
"So I have one condition," I said calmly.
The reporters immediately became attentive. "Mrs. Valente, please go ahead."
"I want fifty percent of the profits," I said without hesitation. "If you agree, we sign the contract immediately and get started. I can also provide more authentic material if needed."
My confidence only made them more excited. After all, nothing attracted attention more than a scandal involving the golden prince of the Bellandi Family.
By the next day, the story of Dante and Serafina's old-neighborhood romance exploded across every tabloid and society page. It quickly occupied three of the top trending spots.
While the entire city's gossip circles were in chaos, I quietly scheduled an interview with a candidate for a new personal courier.
That night, Dante, who was supposed to be overseeing a sit-down in another city, unexpectedly rushed back to the estate.
The moment he stepped into the living room, I could already smell Serafina's signature perfume lingering on him. It was faint, but unmistakable. The two soldiers flanking the front door had gone rigid the second his car pulled through the gates, and now the whole house held its breath.
"Bianca, don't you have anything to say?" he demanded. His voice was urgent, almost frantic.
His expression was serious, his gaze cold and sharp as it locked onto me. For a brief second, his eyes reminded me of that venomous snake I had encountered on the mountain, the one I had nearly died escaping from.
He didn't wait for me to respond before continuing, his tone turning harsh. "Do you realize what you've done? This is going to seriously damage Serafina's standing. There are photographers swarming outside her apartment right now. She can't even step outside!"
I sat on the couch, casually eating potato chips while watching anime. I didn't even bother to look up at him.
"Isn't this exactly what the neighborhood faithful wanted?" I said calmly. "It's also perfect promotion for the new venue opening. I made this decision after weighing the pros and cons."
Those words were not unfamiliar.
Two years ago, Dante had said the exact same thing to me.
Back then, Serafina had just been brought into the Family's orbit. She was rehearsing a number for the supper club's grand opening, a dramatic entrance off a raised stage meant to showcase the new chanteuse. It was her very first public appearance under the Bellandi name, and she was desperate to make an impression.
Right before the rehearsal, she clung to Dante with teary eyes, saying she was afraid of heights.
Dante didn't hesitate. To keep the schedule on track and make the routine look convincing, he ordered me to wear Serafina's costume and act as her stand-in.
The stage platform was more than ten meters high. There were no proper safety measures.
"Serafina said the crew prepared safety protection at the bottom. Bianca, what are you hesitating for?" he said impatiently.
"But… Dante… I'm afraid of heights too…" I held onto his arm, my voice trembling.
