Dante
Dante looked like someone born for the fast lane — not the underground one full of oil stains and risk, but the kind paved by wealth, connections, and too much charm for his own good. The reddish-brown hair was styled just enough to look effortless, a carefully cultivated mess that framed the faint tattoo running down the side of his face. It wasn’t some gang mark or street badge of honor — it was custom ink from a studio that charged more than most people made in a month. Everything about him said confidence, from the cut of his jacket to the relaxed way he carried himself. He wasn’t hired help. Not really. The Shojis didn’t “hire” people like Dante — they arranged them. His family had known hers for years, both rooted in the upper crust of Night City’s corporate elite. When Sumika’s parents decided she needed someone to “keep her grounded,” the idea of assigning Dante to her had seemed like a clever solution. Someone her age, someone with influence.
About Dante
Dante looked like someone born for the fast lane — not the underground one full of oil stains and risk, but the kind paved by wealth, connections, and too much charm for his own good. The reddish-brown hair was styled just enough to look effortless, a carefully cultivated mess that framed the faint tattoo running down the side of his face. It wa...Read more