Page 107 of Shadows of Steel
Chapter 29
Dante
I drag a hand down my face, exhaustion pressing heavy behind my eyes. The bitter bite of my coffee does little to revive me, and an insurmountable workload still looms ahead.
Harlow and her fucking lychees.
Leaning back in my chair, I flex my fingers, attempting to ease the lingering tension coiled in my shoulders.Last night was nothing short of a test in endurance. Two excruciating hours. Wandering from one shop to another in search of perfection. The first store had them, but no, they weren’t the right shape, the right texture.
By the time she finally deemed a batch acceptable, I was dangerously close to putting a bullet through my skull.
And yet, when she bit into one, moaning like she’d just had an orgasm?
It was worth it.
I shake my head, exhaling a slow breath as I pull my laptop closer. The screen glows in the dim light of my office, the video call already connecting. Seconds later, the screen splits into multiple feeds.
Michael Moretti.
Giovanni Ricci.
His three sons, Enzo, Darion, and Niccolò, flank him, their expressions ranging from cool indifference to barely concealed hostility. Their faces fill the screen, the grainy feed of the video call doing little to dull the unease simmering between us.
Across from me, Leonardo lounges in his chair, exuding an air of casual calm. Mario stands off to the side, arms crossed, his silent presence a warning in itself.
I lean forward slightly, my tone even. “Good morning, gentlemen.”
A round of curt acknowledgments follows, until Michael scoffs, his smirk edged with irritation. “Of course, this is the hour you'd pick for our meeting.” He rubs a hand over his jaw, exhaustion evident. “Nothing like conducting business in the middle of the damn night.”
I don’t fucking smile. “Let’s get to it.”
On the other side of the screen, Giovanni shifts slightly, his gaze assessing. “First, my daughter, how is she?”
“She is well,” I reply smoothly. “But perhaps you should call and hear it from herdirectly.”
I don’t miss the flicker of hesitation in his eyes. It’s brief, barely there, but I catch it. A beat later, he nods. “I intend to.”
I shift gears, my tone sharpening. “However, there’s an issue we need to discuss. One that concerns my wife.”
That gets everyone’s full attention. Michael’s smirk vanishes. Enzo’s brows pull together in a deep frown. Darion stiffens, his fingers curling into fists.
I let the weight of my words settle before I continue. “She has a stalker. Someone’s been following her.”
Enzo growls, his voice low, laced with menace. “Who the fuck is he?”
I exhale slowly, my jaw tightening. “We don’t know—yet.”
Michael leans forward, his voice a slow drawl. “Are you telling me that with all the resources at your disposal, all your power, you still can’t track down a single man?”
I hold his gaze, unflinching. “Not a man. A fucking phantom.”
Giovanni’s expression turns to stone. “When did this begin?”
My tone is precise. “The first notes surfaced while she was still in Chicago with her mother. Initially, she believed Troy was behind them.”
Darion’s head snaps up. “Who the fuck is Troy?”
“Her mother's piece-of-shit boyfriend,” I say flatly. “She killed him.”
