The afternoon meeting in Dario’s executive office had been productive, reviewing final Singapore timelines together, until his assistant knocked hesitantly and stepped inside. “Mr. Vitale, Isabella Russo is here. She says it’s urgent and personal. She insisted on seeing you today.”
Dario’s expression tightened briefly, but he nodded. “Send her in.” He glanced at me, reassuring. “An ex from a year ago. This shouldn’t take long.”
Isabella entered with the confidence of someone who belonged in high stakes rooms. Tall and polished in a tailored cream suit, her dark hair swept into an elegant style. What immediately drew my eye was the noticeable curve of her belly beneath the jacket. She was visibly pregnant.
“Dario,” she said warmly, then turned to me with a polite but assessing smile. “An
