Yet when Viviana merely complained about a slight stomachache, he would cancel sit-downs without hesitation and personally drive her to the discreet clinic on Mulberry.
I followed him into his office at the back of the social club, watching silently as he gently told Viviana to go rest in the private room behind the bar. His voice softened in a way I had rarely heard directed at me.
Once the door closed and we were alone, he walked over and grabbed my hand. His voice dropped, quieter now. "Still mad?"
I pulled my hand away, my tone calm but distant. "I told you, I'm not mad."
He frowned slightly, placing both hands on my shoulders. His gaze locked onto mine, searching for something. "Don't lie to me."
"I didn't come home last night, and you didn't even call or text," he said. "And you expect me to believe you're not upset?"
I looked at him, confused for a moment. "Viviana was with you, wasn't she?" I replied evenly. "She's your courier. She'd take care of you."
His expression darkened immediately, his grip tightening on my shoulders.
The pressure made me wince, and I instinctively tried to pull away. In the struggle, he pushed me onto the leather couch against the wall.
As I steadied myself, my hand brushed against something soft. I frowned slightly, reaching down to grab it.
When I pulled it out, I saw a pink lace bra tangled between the cushions.
The moment Dante saw it, the anger on his face vanished, replaced by something else. "That's…" he started, clearly trying to explain.
But I didn't care enough to listen.
I tossed the bra back onto the couch casually, my voice flat. "If there's nothing else, I'll be going, Mr. Moretti."
After hours, I had a sit-down scheduled with an outside associate. As I stepped out of the club onto the narrow sidewalk, a familiar black sedan pulled up in front of me.
The window rolled down, revealing Dante behind the wheel. "Get in," he said. "We'll drop Viv off first, then head to that seafood place by the waterfront."
Viviana leaned out slightly from the passenger seat, smiling brightly. "Sorry, Serena! I'm hitching a ride again!"
I was busy trying to flag down a cab, my attention elsewhere. Without even looking at her, I replied calmly, "You two go ahead. I'm allergic to seafood."
Dante's face darkened instantly. He knew that wasn't true. In fact, that place had always been one of my favorites.
He opened his mouth, clearly about to argue or question me.
But I didn't give him the chance.
I walked past his car without hesitation and got into a cab waiting across the street, leaving them behind without a second glance.
What I didn't expect was for Dante and Viviana to follow me all the way to the restaurant.
I had only come here for business, planning to meet my associate and keep everything strictly professional. But before Matteo Ricci even arrived, the two of them walked in together and casually sat down across from me, as if this were their table too.
For a moment, I just stared at them, unable to hide my disbelief. Then I took a slow breath and cut straight to the point. "I'm meeting Mr. Ricci from the gem trade," I said calmly, making it clear that they didn't belong here.
Dante simply raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair as if amused. "Did Mr. Ricci say he didn't want to see me?" he asked lightly, his tone carrying a hint of challenge.
I fell silent. There was no point arguing. No matter what, he was still the Don, and in front of an outside associate, I couldn't afford to create a scene.
When Matteo Ricci finally arrived, the atmosphere shifted slightly. During the meal, he casually instructed his man to open a bottle of expensive wine, the rich aroma filling the air as it was poured into glasses.
