DANTE'S POV
I sat at my desk, my fingers drumming against the polished mahogany surface, but the movements were mechanical. My office was a reflection of everything I had built-expensive, imposing, and meticulously curated. The floors were black marble, sleek and smooth, a stark contrast to the rich, leather furnishings. The walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a panoramic view of the city below, a sprawling skyline that I had conquered, piece by piece. A large desk sat in the center, stacked with papers, some awaiting my signature, others waiting to be shredded. On the far side, a shelf full of rare books and a handful of prestigious awards stood proudly. Everything was organized, controlled-except my mind.
I'd been trying to focus for the better part of an hour, but the same damn thought kept swirling in my head. Matteo. The bastard had been quiet for a week, but his silence was more unnerving than any of the threats he'd made before. It was like waiting for a storm that might not come… or maybe it already had. I couldn't make up my mind.
I reached for the phone, my finger hovering over the dial, ready to get to the bottom of whatever the hell he was planning. The moment I picked up the receiver, the sound of a knock at the door interrupted me, and I leaned back in my chair, annoyed.
"Come in," I barked, irritated at the interruption.
My secretary stepped inside. "Mr. Ricci is here, sir," she said, her voice a mix of professionalism and politeness that I couldn't quite shake off. Ever since I had to send her away from cleaning duties, she had acting like she had a stick up her ass and that wasn't something I was ready to deal with just yet.
I let out a deep sigh. Mr. Ricci was the last person I wanted to deal with right now, but at least he could bring me the information I needed to tackle Matteo. I'd been expecting him. "Let him in."
The door clicked open, and in walked Ricci. Stout, with a round face and balding head that gleamed under the harsh light. He was always a little too stiff, but the man knew his business. His glasses sat on the edge of his nose, a habit he'd formed over the years, pushing them back every few minutes with an annoyed flick of his hand.
He walked across the room, setting a file down on my desk before he took a seat. "I'll get straight to the point," he said, adjusting his glasses as he opened the file. His voice was measured, calm, but I could see the tension in his eyes. "There's a case building up against you. Your cousin Matteo-"
I didn't need to hear the rest. I slammed my fist against the table, standing abruptly, the force making the papers on my desk shift with the impact. "That fucking bastard, I knew it," I muttered, my anger flaring. I had been expecting something like this, but hearing it from Ricci made it real.
Ricci nodded, unfazed by my outburst. "It's a pretty strong case. He's contesting your father's will and stacking up charges against you, with the help of the FBI-money laundering, drug trafficking, generalized crime... You know, nothing new. But we don't know how much ammunition he has."
I stood still for a moment, trying not to show any sign of alarm. The thought of Matteo taking me down made my blood boil, but I couldn't let that show. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. "What kind of charges exactly?" I asked, my voice colder than I felt.
Ricci glanced at his papers, his fingers flipping through them carefully. "Money laundering, drug trafficking, and the usual-extortion, racketeering. The kind of charges that make it hard to walk away from, especially with the connections he's been making."
I stayed quiet, watching him, my mind working over the possibilities. "How serious is it?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
"If he wins the case," Ricci continued, leaning forward slightly, his fingers tapping against the file, "all your assets will be transferred to him. We're looking at 25 to 50 years, Dante."
The weight of his words hung in the air like a death sentence, and my chest tightened as I ran a hand through my hair. I would have killed him years ago if I knew he was going to be a serious pain in my ass. I should've ended it then. But now? Now, Matteo had me on the ropes.
I sat back down slowly, my mind whirling. There was only one way out of this mess. "The only way now is to reach some sort of agreement with him," Ricci added, his tone almost sympathetic. "He's your cousin. You know once it hits the courts, it's going to drag on forever-and the paper trail won't be pretty."
I gritted my teeth. "What does he want?" I finally asked, my voice low, as if saying it out loud would somehow make it worse.
Ricci hesitated, then set the file aside. "From what we've gathered, he's after a piece of your empire, but-" He stopped mid-sentence and tapped his fingers together. "I think it's more personal. The trial will take a long time, but the best approach is to find out what he truly wants."
My fists clenched under the table. "I'll talk to the bastard. Find out what he wants, and then we'll see what happens."
Ricci nodded, standing up, his movements deliberate as he gathered his things. "I'll leave you to it. But remember, the longer this drags on, the worse it's going to get."
I didn't say anything as he left, my mind already working through the possibilities. Matteo wanted something, and whatever it was, he had me by the balls. But he wouldn't get away with this. Not without a fight.
The second Ricci closed the door, I grabbed my phone and dialed Matteo's number. The line rang twice before he picked up, and I could already hear the smirk in his voice as he answered.
"What the hell do you want?" I barked into the phone, not bothering with pleasantries.
"You damn well know what I want," Matteo said, his voice dripping with smugness.
"I can't give you the company," I shot back, my anger rising. "I can't give you any fucking percentage. You don't deserve it. You're a bastard. I built everything to where it is now with my fucking blood and sweat and you just expect me to give you a cut because my father stuck his pecker in another woman and forgot to pull out"
Matteo chuckled on the other end, the sound grating on my nerves. "How about you tell that to the judge? When you're carted away to maximum security prison, everything will be mine."
I stayed silent for a moment, trying to keep my cool. "I know you, Matteo," I said finally, my voice cutting through the tension. "You don't want the company. Tell me what you really want."
There was a pause on the other end, and then Matteo's chuckle echoed again, more menacing this time. "You're never going to give me the company out of your free will and at this point I don't even want it, but I can't let you just get away with it – give and take Dante – that's your motto"
"What the hell do you fucking want Matteo?" I barked angrily
"One night with Helena," he said, his voice low and smooth. "I'll be out of your hair. Forever."