Dante did not return to the office.
The Vasconcelos Group tower waited for him across the city, all glass, steel, and obedience. Assistants called. Directors sent messages. A scheduled board review remained blinking on his calendar like a life from another century. He ignored all of it. For the first time in years, the company did not feel urgent.
Livia's apartment door did.
Noah's frightened eyes did.
Otavio's voice saying grandson did.
Dante sat in the back of his car with two phones, three legal memos, and an anger that did nothing useful. Anger had always served him well. It sharpened negotiations, silenced investors, made weak men reveal themselves too quickly. But this anger could not erase the way Livia had stepped barefoot into the hallway to face his father. It could not remo
