The rivalry between Dario and Rohan began to cast longer shadows over the following days. What started as flowers and occasional texts escalated into a pointed invitation: Rohan emailed me directly about a “neutral industry forum” on Asian logistics trends, noting it would be beneficial for Marcelli-Vitale interests. The subtext was clear, he wanted time alone with me. I deleted the email but mentioned it to Dario over breakfast, watching his expression darken like storm clouds.
“He’s getting bolder,” Dario said, his voice deceptively calm as he set down his espresso.
“I’m not interested,” I assured him, reaching for his hand. And I wasn’t. The nights with Dario had become my anchor, raw, consuming, and increasingly tender. Rohan represented a path not taken, a fantasy of simplicity, but
