Chapter 11
1006 Words
Vanguard Tower was an imposing structure in the heart of downtown, sleek and modern like Dante himself. The security desk in the lobby stopped me, of course, but one call upstairs had them issuing me a visitor's pass with surprising speed.
The elevator whisked me to the top floor, where a receptionist greeted me with a polite smile. "Ms. Caldwell, Mr. Moretti is expecting you. This way, please."
Of course he was expecting me. Marcus had probably called ahead the moment I hung up on him.
The receptionist led me down a corridor to a set of heavy wooden doors, which she opened with a respectful knock. "Ms. Caldwell to see you, sir."
Dante's office was exactly what I'd expected—spacious, tastefully decorated, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a commanding view of the city. He sat behind a massive desk, looking up from some papers as I entered. He didn't seem the least bit surprised to see me.
"Vivian," he said, standing. "This is a pleasant surprise."
"Is it?" I crossed my arms. "Somehow I doubt that."
He gestured to a chair across from his desk. "Please, sit. Can I offer you a drink?"
"No. I want answers. Are you having me followed?"
Dante's expression remained calm, but something flickered in his eyes. "Not followed. Protected."
"Without my knowledge or consent? That's not protection, that's surveillance."
He sighed, coming around to lean against the front of his desk. "The security guard at Branson's warehouse works for me, yes. He was instructed to keep an eye on you, nothing more."
"Why?"
"Because Luca is vindictive and unpredictable. Because you're valuable to me as a potential ally. Because I don't want you getting hurt while you consider my proposition."
I laughed, the sound bitter even to my own ears. "So this is all about protecting your investment? Making sure I stay in one piece long enough to help you take down Luca?"
A flash of anger crossed his face, there and gone so quickly I almost missed it. "Is it so hard to believe that I might actually be concerned for your welfare?"
"Yes," I said bluntly. "I don't know you, Dante. We met—really met—two days ago. You've shown up out of nowhere offering help, an apartment, a job connection, and now 'protection'? It's too much, too fast, and it makes me wonder what you really want."
He studied me for a long moment, his blue eyes intense. Then he pushed off from the desk and walked to the window, hands clasped behind his back.
"Fair enough," he said finally. "You have every right to be suspicious. But believe me when I say that my interest in your wellbeing predates our conversation at the gala."
"Meaning what, exactly?"
He turned to face me. "Meaning I've watched Luca and his family mistreat you for years. I've seen the way they undermined you, isolated you, made you doubt yourself. And I did nothing." His jaw tightened. "Perhaps this is my way of making amends for that silence."
I wanted to believe him. Part of me did. But years with Luca had taught me to question everything, to look for the hidden agenda.
"The apartment, the job connection, the security—it's all very generous," I said carefully. "But I need to know what you expect in return."
"Right now? Nothing. Eventually? Your assistance in bringing Luca's house of cards tumbling down." He returned to his desk, sitting on the edge closest to me. "But only if and when you decide you want that too."
I studied his face, looking for signs of deception. "And the kiss? Where does that fit into all this?"
A slight smile curved his lips. "That was... unplanned. But not regretted."
Heat crept up my neck despite my best efforts to remain composed. "I'm not interested in being anyone's revenge fling."
"I would never suggest such a thing," he said, sounding genuinely offended. "Whatever happens or doesn't happen between us personally is entirely separate from our business arrangement."
I raised an eyebrow. "So there is a business arrangement."
"There could be. If you want there to be."
I leaned back in my chair, considering him. Dante Moretti was dangerous—that much was clear. But maybe that's exactly what I needed right now. Someone dangerous enough to stand against Luca.
"No more surveillance without my knowledge," I said firmly. "If you're concerned about my safety, we discuss it like adults."
He nodded. "Agreed."
"And I need time. Time to think, to get my feet under me, to figure out what I want."
"Of course. Take all the time you need." He paused. "Will you stay in the apartment?"
I sighed. "Yes. For now. It's... practical."
Something like satisfaction flashed in his eyes before he schooled his expression back to neutral. "Good. I'll have Marcus bring over more of your things from the hotel."
"Thank you," I said, standing. "I should get back. I have a lot of work to do for Tom tomorrow."
Dante stood as well. "I'll have a car brought around for you."
"That's not necessary—"
"Please, Vivian. At least let me do that much."
I relented, too tired to argue further. "Fine. Thank you."
As I turned to leave, Dante spoke again. "Vivian?"
I looked back at him.
"For what it's worth, I think you're handling all of this—the divorce, the job, everything—with remarkable strength."
The compliment caught me off guard. When was the last time anyone had acknowledged my strength? Luca had always emphasized my dependency, my need for his guidance and protection.
"Thank you," I said softly, meaning it this time.
As the elevator carried me back to the lobby, I found myself more confused than ever about Dante Moretti. Was he genuinely concerned for my welfare? Was this all part of an elaborate revenge scheme against Luca? Or was it something else entirely?
And why did the thought of seeing him again make my heart beat just a little faster?
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