Just Dinner
1426 Words
Dante POV
Dante’s jaw tightened as he read the morning paper.
Pictures of Gia and Leonardo—looking happy together. Like a power couple. Like they belonged together. His fingers gripped the edges of the paper, slowly crumbling it. He wanted to rip it apart, but he couldn’t stop looking at her.
She looked so beautiful. She was wearing something he could never picture her in. Gia Moretti was a woman of elegance and grace. She’d always told him that less revealing left more to the imagination. And she was right. Her class made her even more sexy.
She didn’t need to show off her body to get attention.
So it felt off to him… He ran a hand through his hair. He was overthinking. Again. That’s all he had been doing since he’d seen her a week ago. He needed to stop this. These pictures were the proof he was looking for.
She was happy. He should leave well enough alone.
But still, there was something that felt wrong about the whole thing. He just couldn’t place it.
He was just taking a sip of his coffee, still staring at the pictures when—
“Daddy, daddy, are we going yet? Are we leaving now?” Aria ran into the kitchen, clutching her little stuffed rainbow unicorn.
He smiled as she watched her run over to him, excitement lighting up her face.
“First, you need breakfast, then we go to the park,” he ruffled her brown curls, before making her a sandwich.
Today was Saturday, and Saturdays? They were Aria and Daddy time.
Dante guarded Saturdays like sacred ground. One day a week just for Aria. One day a week just for her while Isabella did God knows what. He didn’t know, and quite frankly, he didn’t really care. This was about Aria, not about Isabella.
They would bake cookies or play with Legos, whatever his little girl wanted, and today she wanted to go to the park.
Aria's little fingers poked at the bandages across Dante’s knuckles, her little face scrunching up with confusion.
"Daddy, you have ouchies!"
He froze for half a second. The memory flashed—blood, screams, the way the man's voice broke when Dante snapped his wrist like a twig. It was part of who he was—what it meant to be a Mancini. A whole empire depended on him—leaving him no choice but to be ruthless.
Dante forced a smile, scooping Aria into his arms.
"Daddy fought the cookie monster last night. You should have seen him run."
Aria giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. And just like that, the blood washed away.
After breakfast, the two of them headed to the park, hand in hand. Dante had left his usual suit at home, swapping it for casual jeans, a shirt and a leather jacket.
Dante sat down on a bench, while Aria played, chasing after a stray red balloon. Her laughter was infectious, and a rare smile tugged at Dante’s lips.
He was surprised at how busy the park was. Parents, nannies and children were scattered around, talking, and playing.
Suddenly, he noticed Aria had found a friend to play with. A little boy with dark hair. A whisper of recognition twisted inside of him. Was he the son of one of his business partners? Of one of the other families?
But then it hit him. The little boy Aria was playing with was his son. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the little boy—mesmerized. It was his and Gia’s son. God, he was perfect.
Gia had to be here. There was no way she'd send a nanny. His eyes darted around the playground until he found her—already looking at him.
She was wearing sunglasses—making it impossible to read her expression—but she was definitely looking his way. Her black hair shined in the sun, giving her an ethereal glow.
Automatically, his mind went back to their alleyway meeting… the kiss… the feelings he had always had for her.
He knew he should look away, but he couldn’t. He watched in fascination as his son ran over to her. Gia laughed at something the little boy said— and Dante felt his chest crack open all over again.
He knew just from staring at her that she was an amazing mother.
His phone buzzed in his pocket.
He didn't recognize the number—but he answered anyway.
A low voice crackled over the line. Bad news.
Another family was sniffing too close to his docks. Breaking agreements. Testing his patience.
Dante watched Aria stumble across the grass, giggling, running over to where Luca was—with Gia. It was the perfect invitation for him to go over there. To meet his son.
He pressed the phone tighter to his ear, his voice low and unforgiving.
"Take care of it. No warnings this time. No survivors."
He hung up before they could respond. Not even a ripple of emotion touched his face.
The only thing he cared about right now— was standing twenty feet away.
His family.
“Daddy, daddy, come meet my new friend,” Aria squealed, taking Dante’s finger and pulling him off the bench, towards Gia. Dante knew he should stop—but it was like his feet were moving on their own accord.
Before his mind could catch up to what was going on, they were in front of each other.
“Daddy, this is Luca. He’s my new friend.” Dante’s heart clenched painfully. If only she knew she had been playing with her little brother.
“It’s nice to meet you, Luca,” Dante said with a tremor in his voice—crouching down. But to his surprise, Luca held out his little hand and gave Dante a firm handshake—well, firm for a four-year-old.
“It’s nice to meet you, sir,” he said formally. Dante couldn’t help but smile as his eyes shone with unshed tears. When he looked up at Gia—her eyes were mirroring his own.
“Luca, there’s no need to be so formal. Daddy isn’t here,” Gia quietly said.
Daddy. The word hit him like a punch to the gut. That’s right. Because of his f**k up, another man was now raising his son.
Suddenly, Aria let out a cry. “A spider! There’s a spider on my shoe!” But before Dante could step in, Gia had already crouched down, taking the little bug in her hand.
“It’s okay, it’s just a little bug. It’s more scared of us than we should be of him,” Gia smiled, showing the bug crawling over her hand.
Dante watched her — wide-eyed, fearless — with the kind of innocence he knew the world would steal from her too soon.
He was right. Gia would have made the perfect mother to his child. No, she was the perfect mother.
“Would you like me to put it on your hand?” Gia asked softly. Aria shook her head no, causing Dante to chuckle.
“This is Aria,” Dante introduced his daughter to Gia.
“It’s nice to meet you Aria, my name is Gia,” she smiled.
“Gia? My Daddy says that name in his sleep sometimes,” Aria giggled.
Gia froze for half a second, her smile faltering, before smoothing it back into place.
Aria suddenly took Luca’s hand, “Come on, let’s go play superheroes.” before running off together.
"Well, that wasn't awkward at all," Dante said with a rough chuckle, trying—and failing—to lighten the mood.Gia didn’t respond, just watched their children play together.
“Leo’s out of town,” she said, before pausing—as if she was regretting telling him. She opened her mouth to speak again, but Dante cut her off.
“Have dinner with me tonight.”
Gia’s eyes snapped to his, before she shook her head, “Dante…”
"Just dinner," he said, stepping closer without meaning to. His voice dropped lower, desperation threading through it. "One time."
“Okay, dinner. Where?” Gia nodded after a moment.
“Meet me near the corner of Alessandro and Sophia’s house, at seven.” Dante said, remembering that time they’d met there to go to the beach house where he proposed, and they had their first time.
Gia seemed to remember it too—a small smile ghosted her lips, before she nodded.
“I’ll be there.”
- Writer
