Dante’s POV
“Sir, the jet is ready.”
The words sounded sharp enough to cut through my thoughts, but they didn't chase away the image that had been in my head since dawn.
“Give me a minute,” I said, my voice low and steady trying to be calm.
The night before clung to me like a memory I didn't want to let go.
The plane hummed beneath my feet as I finally boarded, and the city lights faded into distant stars through the window. My secretary was standing in for Luca, she took a seat across from me, holding a tablet filled with schedules and routes.
My thoughts were filled with her.
Alessia.
I couldn't forget the way she looked so fragile, wrapped in my sheets as if she belonged there. The faint scent of whiskey I perceived on her breath when I leaned close. The way her body had leane
