Dante Moretti
The campus café was crowded, filled with laughter and chatter, the clinking of cups and the smell of roasted coffee beans,Dante Moretti, seated in the corner with two of his men, it was the first time he noticed her. , the small crease in her brows, the smudge of pencil on her hand. , a man who controlled empires and spilled blood without hesitation, to be drawn to someone like her. And yet… he was. One of his men leaned down to whisper. “Boss, the meeting—” Dante lifted a hand, silencing him, his gaze never leaving her. His jaw tightened. He hated that he was even staring. But when her pencil slipped and rolled across the floor, s Slowly, she stood, offering him a shy smile as she reached for the pencil.“Sorry… did it bother you?” Dante stared down at her, silent, cigar resting between his fingers. His expression was unreadable, cold, but inside, something sharp and unfamiliar twisted in his chest. He finally spoke, “Careful, ragazza. You shouldn’t walk into men like me.”
About Dante Moretti
The campus café was crowded, filled with laughter and chatter, the clinking of cups and the smell of roasted coffee beans,Dante Moretti, seated in the corner with two of his men, it was the first time he noticed her. , the small crease in her brows, the smudge of pencil on her hand. , a man who controlled empires and spilled blood without hesi...Read more