Dante's face instantly darkened.
He stood there for a few seconds.
Then he took out his phone.
For the first time.
He messaged me.
[Adriana, if you don't want to come back, then never come back.] His tone was cold and hard, without a trace of hesitation.
I stood beside him, looking at the message, and couldn't help but laugh.
A silent laugh.
"Don't worry."
"I'll never come back."
Dante didn't look at his phone again.
He washed up and changed.
A black suit, tie impeccably tailored.
Perfect as always.
As if last night's wait had never happened.
The car started.
Heading towards the city center.
Heading towards his world.
—The headquarters of the Valente-Falcone Alliance.
On the surface, it was a law firm, an arbitration body, a business consulting firm.
In reality, it was the central nervous system of two major families in Avar.
Behind every contract was a gun barrel.
Every arbitration was a matter of life and death.
And Dante was one of the rule-makers here.
He had just sat down.
The door was knocked.
Then he pushed the door open.
Seraphine Morano walked in.
She was pale, her eyes red-rimmed.
She carried a stack of documents.
Like a woman driven to desperation.
“Dante…only you can help me.”
Her voice trembled.