Page 139 of Modern Romance January 2025 5-8

Vincenzo, his paralegal, was startled, though, and a couple of the other attorneys sat up straighter, perhaps wondering how they would deal with things if this exceptionally high-profile client completely lost his temper.

Rather than clearing the office of staff, or warning the client to calm down, Dante stood up to his well over six-foot height.

There were no signs of confrontation in his stance.

He didn’t so much as look at his client.

Nor did he stalk out.

Instead, he picked up the paperwork that was so angrily being discussed and took a moment to ensure it was in the correct order.

Dante liked order.

His suits were handmade here in Milan. His shoes also. His shirts and ties were from a little further afield—Paris. He liked the cut of a Charvet shirt and remained loyal to them. His thick black hair was trimmed weekly, he shaved daily—even at weekends—and if he was attending a function, as he often did, he shaved twice.

After tapping the paperwork several times on the desk, to ensure it was neatly aligned, he placed it in the rich navy folder.

A tense silence filled the boardroom. All awaited his response, perhaps wondering if he was going to excuse himself from the case...

Of course not.

Dante was more than used to this.

‘We shall speak in my office,’ he said, and with the file in hand walked to the exit. As he reached the door, he added, ‘Immediately.’

He was over the drama—and, as well as that, he had an unexpected phone call to make.

Prior to this meeting Antonia, his PA, had informed him that Sev, his older brother, had called and asked that Dante call him as soon as was convenient.

He and his brother weren’t speaking, and the fact that it wasn’t Helene, Sev’s own PA, who had called had been of instant concern.

‘An emergency?’ Dante had checked, concerned that something had happened to Gio, their grandfather.

‘No.’ Antonia had shaken her head. ‘But he asked that you call him back today, if possible...’

And he would—just as soon as he had a moment.

Walking into his office, Dante truly wondered how people could be so attached tothingsthat would surely cause nothing but pain.

Aside from a small envelope in his office safe there was nothing he would miss.

Actually, it would be a relief if even that was taken.

Dante had no photos on his desk or shelves, no mementoes. It was the same at his luxurious Milan penthouse, and at his stunning property in Lucca.

Once he had considered the gorgeous Tuscan town home. Now it was a place he avoided until it became...

Unavoidable.

Like at Christmas, or anniversaries.

Why would anyone want constant reminders of anything? Dante thought.

He certainly didn’t.

Although he hadn’t always been this dispassionate—quite the contrary... As a child he’d been the wild, cheeky one, his charm undeniable, his smile melting hearts...

More so as a teenager and young man.